Pitch-Black and Utterly Hopeless (4)
Isaac's eyes were burning.
Quietly, yet so ferocious that anyone who looked could feel it. The priests presiding over the ceremony had no choice but to stare, feigning surprise. Where on earth was that fighting spirit coming from, in such a tiny body?
The Black Execution Official in charge of the execution was watching with particular interest.
It made sense. The Blue Faith were the kind of people who forged their sword-souls out of patience and honed their blades with hatred. Fighting spirit mattered that much to them—so look at that sight.
'That's not something achieved in a day or two.'
But what in the world was that child?
The Black Cardinal had said saints don't exist, that every last candidate was trash, that none of them were worth the trouble. And yet wasn't the difference between Isaac and the other Saint candidates, Kina and Naiser, painfully obvious? It was why Naiser could only stare at Isaac in profound confusion.
What is this?
If he's a corrupted one, he should be happy to see a demon, shouldn't he?
Wasn't there actual testimony that during the Gold Pentagon, he'd been delighted to hear he'd be heading to the mages' land? And a high-ranking demon of the 9th Tier, no less—the kind of being you'd worship.
'Is it an act?'
No, though? Those eyes look genuinely, sincerely hateful for a performance?
Kina swallowed and studied Isaac as well. He, too, knew the Blue doctrines well.
'Hatred.'
And then—ah. Something seemed to click.
Could it be that Isaac had gained the Pope's power because of his hatred for the Skeleton Demon King?
And sure enough, as if to prove it, Isaac's face only grew uglier as he glared at the demon.
'Ugh, so hateful. The clergy are so HATEFUL!'
One glimpse of the priests' torture instruments and Isaac's old trauma came surging back. It was ancient history, so he didn't truly care—but there was no helping the fact that his face management had completely failed.
'Hoo. Calm down. Yes. This is actually good. A good thing.'
With the atmosphere this terrified, springing his subordinate out wouldn't be difficult at all.
'Five restraints on my subordinate in total.'
A special shackle sealing his subordinate's power to its absolute limit. And four Papacy restraints stripping away his bodily freedom.
The shackles had been pre-delivered—his subordinate would have already neutralized them. They'd been an empty husk for ages, no doubt. Which meant all Isaac had to unseal now were the remaining restraints: two at the neck, two at the legs.
And breaking those restraints was not hard.
'At most, they're sealing holy arts from the previous generation of Cardinals.'
He'd confirmed it in advance in the prison. He had a decent idea of what holy arts they'd likely used—in the first place, there were only a handful of holy arts capable of restraining an undead-type 9th-Tier demon.
He'd even verified the details, thanks to that 9th-Tier holy art tome the Blue family head had thrown at him, snarling about discipline and such.
And though he'd never once succeeded, he knew from experience—he'd been on the receiving end. It hadn't worked, but it had hurt quite a lot mentally... ugh, thinking about it made him furious, so no more thinking about it.
Anyway, the restraints were designed to release automatically once the ceremony began, with no direct intervention needed.
Why, you ask?
'Because I cast dispel magic on the ceremony priests.'
In other words, he'd had magical tools loaded with dispel magic installed on the apprentices assigned to the execution.
Apprentices wouldn't notice a thing if you slipped a magic tool onto them while pretending to greet them. Even if the attached object were discovered—well. They'd simply assume someone had schemed to rescue the Fourteen Six Demons.
And would there be any risk of the priests catching on midway?
'Haah, thank the hells I kept that one alive.'
He meant the demon Ash, of course.
She was the demon who had smuggled the Fake Skeleton King's illusion tool into the Ordination Ceremony.
And what did that tell him?
That magical tools could be brought in without being detected, in all but the most extreme cases.
'That one's concealment magic is decent.'
Sure, a truly thorough inspection might catch it, but—eh, likely?
It was no accident that Isaac had shown up in the bizarre getup of being waited on hand and foot by Naiser and Kina.
'The more attention fixates on me, the less anyone looks at the things I've attached.'
And besides—he was openly enslaving the heirs of two Ducal Houses. Did those priests really have the mental bandwidth to check for anything else?
And sure enough, at the ceremony priest's signal, the chosen apprentices began to move in order. As the four of them drew steadily closer to the Fourteen Six Demon, Isaac—still perched atop Naiser's head—gave it a smack. Up, up. Move along.
"Hey. What do you think you're doing? Get moving too."
Naiser's blood boiled.
This goddamn little brat?
"...Surely I can get down by now?"
"Oh dear? And where does the horse find the nerve to talk back?"
"...Son of a bi—"
"Don't like it? Then quit being a mount."
The eyebrows of Naiser, exercising all his patience, twitched like worms.
...Damn it. Hold it in! Just until I've got evidence to nail him with...!
At last, a pentagonal formation took shape around the Fourteen Six Demon. Naiser asked if he could finally get down and—
"AAAGH!"
—got a fistful of his hair grabbed instead.
'You son of a—!'
Wronged and seething, Naiser gesticulated furiously at the Black Execution Official—is this even allowed? Punish Isaac already!—but the official's gestures made it perfectly clear that he couldn't care less.
At that sight, Naiser was struck speechless.
They say the Cardinal's a lunatic, and it turns out his subordinates are too?
Shortly after, the apprentices joined their hands, and five pillars rose from the ground.
Thud. Thud. Thud!
The Execution Official then connected the Fourteen Six Demon's restraints to the pillars.
These five pillars were the very instruments that would execute the demon. When holy power surged through them, it would travel through the chains linked to the restraints and take the demon's life. Picture electricity coursing out and roasting him alive, and you'd have the right idea.
And Isaac's eyes caught it, plain as day.
The magical tools attached to the apprentices' clothing activating, one by one.
'Good. All preparations are complete.'
All that remained was for his subordinate to be ready.
The moment he undid the shackles, the tools would activate, and the escape would happen in a single stroke!
Yes! Come on now! Subordinate!
Hurry up and undo those shackles!
You've already neutralized them, so you should be able to tear free with your own strength by now!
Come on, quickly...!
But his subordinate, for his part, showed not the slightest thought of escaping. Instead, he was weeping—weeping!—with gratitude.
[My lord, so you have succeeded in growing your power.]
The subordinate's voice rang out only inside Isaac's head. With his head bowed deeply, Shabnak looked for all the world like a man letting tears stream down his face.
He had clearly been moved to his very core by the sight of Isaac riding atop a human mount.
[To make the heirs of the Faith kneel before you, bearing yourself with such majesty... I have no regrets remaining in this world.]
Isaac's eyes went wide with shock.
No, hold on. You little—
That's NOT it! Undo the shackles!!
[My lord. Having taken those treacherous wretches as your servants, I could die now without a single regret.]
WHOSE dying words are those?! Nobody asked for a deathbed scene!!!
You need to be escaping, right now! Otherwise you DIE!
There's only one chance!
[The mere fact that you came to save me is a debt I could never repay. I am content now, so please, live a long and prosperous life. I shall die here, executed as I am.]
I'll kill you with my own hands before they can execute you! Want that?!
At the same time, Isaac made a thoroughly bewildered face.
'Why is he like that??'
[Beats me. There must be some reason, I suppose.]
Whisper was equally puzzled.
He could break the restraints, clearly—once those came off, he could walk out anytime. Escape, and the Holy Empire's barrier would be nothing but...
Well, with the Pope and the Cardinals present, the escape might hit snags—but Isaac had already checked their schedules and planned around them.
'I just need him out before they show up.'
But his subordinate still showed no intention of moving.
'Why? Was the tool faulty?'
Or maybe he couldn't unseal the shackles? Isaac cycled through possibilities, then shook his head.
No.
Once the restraints came off anyway, the execution site would descend into pandemonium. He could simply snatch his subordinate out in the chaos.
Isaac's gaze fixed on the restraints.
Good—the tools are responding.
And so the dispel magic on the restraints began to activate and...
What. Why isn't it working?!
Isaac swiftly scrutinized his subordinate's restraints in minute detail.
[My lord?]
And then Isaac's expression turned vicious.
'Damn it! There's a NEW restraint on him that wasn't there before!'
[WHAT?!]
There was no mistaking it. Something like an iron nail had been driven into his subordinate's shoulder.
'So they added it when he was moved out of the prison.'
They must have reinforced his bindings as insurance against the unexpected.
At that point, Isaac seemed to realize something and looked at his subordinate. Is that why the guy gave up on escaping?
As if that thought were correct, his subordinate spoke.
[My lord. Pay me no mind.]
'!'
[It is too dangerous from the start. You finally gained a new life—if you involve yourself any further, you will be the one in peril. The Pope and the Cardinals are not foes to be trifled with. Cast me aside, rather, and win their trust.]
Yeah, shut up. You want me to lose you over one restraint that's basically a children's toy?
Perhaps his subordinate had never intended to escape at all. Shackled or not, he must have considered it his sacred duty to die here willingly rather than put Isaac in danger. And perhaps that was why he believed that his master merely coming to see him was already a grace far too great to repay.
But Isaac had no intention of giving up on him.
Shabnak had been among the most loyal of all his countless subordinates. And he was the one who had waited for Isaac for a hundred and fifty years, no less.
'Well, it's not a high-grade restraint. I can break it in no time.'
The problem was...
[The fact that we must get close, I take it.]
Yes, that's the problem.
He could undo it instantly if he could just touch it—but the apprentices' permitted range was two meters out. Even one meter would do.
'At this distance, I'd be spotted.'
The high-ranking priests were there—and Kina and Naiser on top of that.
What now? Should I draw their eyes some other way, even at a little risk?
Soon, the Black assistant Execution Official approached and took hold of the chain connected to the helm—seizing the bowed neck of Isaac's subordinate and hauling it up.
And that was when it happened.
As if a message had just been relayed, the ceremony priest called for Isaac.
"Isaac Eshua is to trade places with the assistant Execution Official."
"!"
"It is Cardinal Verith's command that the Pentagon's champion be given the chance."
At those words, the Gold and Red teams guarding the execution platform snorted in smug satisfaction, while the Blue team and Shuri ground their teeth.
'They're ordering an apprentice to stand right next to the Fourteen Six Demon?!'
'Something's obviously going to happen!'
'They mean to get Isaac hurt!'
Shuri's brow was furrowed deepest of all.
'Isaac ate the flesh of the Skeleton Demon King. There's no way the Demon King's subordinate would just sit still!'
There was no need to wonder why they'd pull such a stunt.
'They couldn't kill him at the Gold Pentagon, so they'll finish the job here!'
Exactly! The Gold Faith would never leave the Blue Faith in peace!
'Even if he survives, it'll be at least a critical injury!'
In truth, of course, it was nothing more than an attempt to keep him from drawing the gods. Anyone carried out on a stretcher would be barred from the god-drawing rites.
But unlike all those grinding their teeth, Isaac went puheheheh.
'That Gold Cardinal, that pretty-faced son of a—!'
He's delivering him right to my side, all on his own!
Son of a—, I can't keep the corners of my mouth down, I'm so happy.
Isaac approached his subordinate, heh heh heh, barely restraining his clown-face from ascending to heaven. At that grotesque expression, the apprentices watched him with concern.
'...He's gone mad with fear, I think.'
'Good heavens...'
Isaac received the chain from the assistant Execution Official. Now he could touch his subordinate openly—these flimsy restraints were nothing. Snapping such trifles was hardly diffi— son of a—?
Isaac's face stiffened as he looked at the nail driven into that shoulder.
Right, the object itself is nothing special... it is indeed a low-grade piece, but...
'SON OF A—! This is holy art from the GOD REALM!'
Some idle bastard hammered THIS into him here?!
'God damn it.'
The other restraints had been dispelled. Those he could have handled easily.
They were something like a glass tank filled to the brim with water. Being a 9th-Tier demon, the container was only just barely holding his power now—but the principle was that a single tiny scratch or crack, and it would shatter—BOOM!—unable to contain his strength.
Even with his current power, it was a method that required no great force, using the subordinate's own strength to break the restraints. Best of all, the restraints could be scratched from the outside with ease.
But this one was different.
[If that's a God Realm working, it won't be easy to scratch, will it?]
Right. To touch the workings of the God Realm, you needed sacred blood.
Say... the blood of an exceedingly holy, top-grade divine beast... or perhaps the blood of an angel...
And at that very moment—
"The messenger of God shall now descend."
Isaac's ears perked straight up at the priests' words.
"What? The execution hasn't even happened yet?"
"Indeed. As this is the Skeleton Demon King's subordinate, His messenger wishes to carry out the execution personally."
Isaac blinked and blinked again.
The messenger of God?
Uh, so that means...
"The summoning circle on the statue is glowing!"
Which means...
FLASH!
-So the stench was trembling. How fitting.
Upon the altar where the summoning circle was carved, an angel...
-The filthy Skeleton Demon King's subordinate, is it? Then I must handle it myself, with all due ceremony.
...an angel.
"Ooh, the messenger of the God of Punishment himself comes to us!"
AN ANGEL?????
The corners of Isaac's eyes-spinning mouth curled all the way up to his ears.
Whisper winced, realizing too late.
[Now I understand why Shabnak gave up on escaping. If an angel appears as the executioner, there's no escaping alive.]
After all, angel's blood was the very thing needed to break that restraint.
[Shall we abandon Shabnak?]
'No. A rather fine plan just came to me.'
At the light that entered even Isaac's eyes, Shuri flinched—and not for any ordinary reason.
"Hey. Hold on. You. What are you doing."
Why is your holy power starting to fill up your hand like that? Why can I feel killing intent coming off your holy power?!
Shuri's pupils began to quake like an earthquake.
What is this? I'm sure I've lived through this exact situation somewhere before.
Ten years ago, in the Saintess Treasury... no, less than ten years—there was something similar recently too, wasn't there.
Yes. Like the time he blasted a statue's face apart with holy power...
And at that instant, the destruction-laden holy power left Isaac's hand, and Shuri let out an ah of realization.
Yes, that's right. It flew like that.
Right. It flew...
"..."
Son of a—, WHAT? It's FLYING?!!