The World (11)
"Think standing still will make me hold back, Deceiver?"
Mammon gathered Demon Energy into his palm as he surveyed the lava-choked ground.
"If you don't dodge, that's just fine by me."
He loosed it. The condensed, violently repelling beam—hotter even than magma—punched straight through the molten rock and detonated with a thunderous blast.
"Caught me, huh."
As expected. Mammon waved a hand at Mephistopheles, who had burst free unscathed. Lava blanketing the floor erupted upward in countless pillars, like raindrops falling from a cave ceiling in reverse.
Lightning forked down through the narrow gaps of open air left between the rising magma. Only about forty pearls remained. He would have to husband them carefully.
A sharp slice rang out.
But was Mephistopheles one to be outdone so easily?
"Figures. The more you own, the easier life gets."
Demon Energy capacity was not everything, yet it could tip the scales of victory quite decisively. Mammon took open satisfaction in that clear superiority as he bent the lava to his will.
Stone spears lanced from the surging columns; volcanic bombs rained down, forcing Mephistopheles to burn more power just to stay alive.
Mephistopheles's lips twisted into a crooked smirk.
"Is that so? From where I'm standing you look like some rich idiot with capital to burn but zero investment sense—can't take profit, can't even cut losses, just bleeding the principal dry."
A blade that carried no Demon Energy at all simply shifted form and carved through every assault. Wild yet fluid arcs scoured everything around him clean.
Human-born or not, the bastard certainly knew how to handle tools.
Mammon had meant to force Demon Energy expenditure; instead he watched his opponent resolve the crisis with pure equipment. He flicked a finger.
Dozens of spines burst from the heaving lava and streaked toward Mephistopheles.
A wet crunch, then a grinding snap.
The figure who had just slipped free of a building shrank the multi-meter sword back down and hurled it.
"Bite."
Latel reshaped mid-flight into a black hound and charged Mammon's true body. No reason to take that hit.
He cloaked the tower behind him in lava, wove a formation within it, and sank his main body into the molten depths.
Latel's jaws clamped shut on empty air with a sharp click.
"Looking closer, you're the guinea pig here."
"Do I look that cute to you?"
"Whether that thing is cute is beside the point. I meant you're a coward. Digging a burrow just to stay alive—classic."
At the same moment a hand punched up through the lava. The scarlet eye nested inside the goat-bone skull was, as always, full of nothing but mockery.
"Weak, gutless, stupid Mammon."
Mammon answered the fool who had thrust a hand into the lava with spines, heat, and crushing mass. Closing the distance could get him killed, yet crisis sometimes became opportunity.
"If you think you're any different, I've got bad news for you, Mephisto."
Spikes erupted from the lava, skewering Mephistopheles from every angle; molten rock buried the wounds an instant later.
This could not be the end. That Mephisto would never go down so quietly. Mammon's senses screamed warning.
He scrambled backward.
A spherical explosion bloomed a hair's breadth behind him. Black flames wreathed the body Mephistopheles had thrown out as bait, devouring the surrounding magma the way fire eats paper.
With a soft crackle, crimson fire-blossoms bloomed from the wreckage and scattered embers like cherry petals. Wherever those drifting sparks touched, everything was consumed.
"Oh? Is that really true?"
A sudden, colossal impact rocked Mammon's true body. Latel—whom he had thought returned to its master—had been stalking from behind and now drove straight into his heart.
Sly bastard. Mammon clicked his tongue at the tactic that so thoroughly exploited his lack of combat experience. Even as holes riddled Mephistopheles's body and chunks of flesh vanished as though torn away, those ruined hands seized Latel.
The weapon still pierced Mammon's core.
Danger.
In that instant Mammon chose flight. He would surrender anything so long as he kept his life.
A clean slash.
For a fraction of a second the world turned pure white. When the light faded, only a fan-shaped trench remained in the earth, and Mephistopheles standing half a corpse.
"See? The one who always runs is you, Mammon."
Even in that state Mephisto spoke with perfect ease. He had every right.
Mephistopheles's essence was Wrath; the power he commanded was flame. And fire… so long as an ember and fuel remained, it could swell to any size.
Most demons possessed regenerative recovery, yet Mephistopheles's very nature made his speed and scale overwhelming.
At times one wondered whether the thing he deceived was not fellow demons, but death itself.
"Coward."
Bone and flesh crackled back into existence. Mephisto casually regenerated his missing left cheek and right hand while he whispered. Mammon, who had sacrificed an arm just to wrench free, clenched his remaining fist.
"…Fine. What else can I do? I'm not used to fighting like you."
Yet even that tension soon eased.
"So I have to fight like this. I can't just stand there and take it, can I?"
Far away the tower melted, funneling its power into him. The Demon Energy he had squandered surged back to fullness.
"Right?"
Composure returned to Mammon.
Mephisto, who felt every drop of that recovery, narrowed his eyes.
When the opponent you had been fighting suddenly topped off his reserves, the reaction was only natural.
"Sacrifice."
What was done was done. Rather than waste energy raging at the change, Mephisto calmly analyzed it.
Several possibilities existed; one stood out. Offering a sacrifice.
"What, jealous?"
"Ha."
When had he made the offering…? With Demon Energy saturating the entire area, hiding the ritual would not have been hard.
The problem was what came next.
His opponent was refilled. Mephistopheles, meanwhile, had reached the point where every scrap of Demon Energy mattered.
In this state even he could not last long.
He needed a plan.
"If you want, go ahead and try. I won't just watch, of course."
Offer a sacrifice of his own? But what could he possibly offer?
Most of the world's substances were so common they held no sacrificial value. The Demon Energy spent on the rite would outweigh whatever power came back.
"My, you could inherit the name of Deception and Trickery yourself."
"Oh my, will you give it to me? Then I'll accept gratefully."
Gold or jewels—things that carried clear, popular value—returned reliable power when sacrificed…
But would Mammon have left any gold in this city? Enough gold to reverse the situation?
Not a chance.
Mephisto discarded the idea of treasure at once.
"I could hand it over… if you paid a fitting price."
"Haha. Of course. Smashing that vessel of yours ought to be price enough, don't you think?"
Still, offering a sacrifice would be convenient…
Mephistopheles's crimson eyes flared brighter.
Sacrifice that snake?
His gaze drifted to the turtle that had not moved an inch along the shore. The serpent hidden inside its shell was tearing the coastline apart in search of what had been stolen from it.
Just cutting its head off before the offering would take time.
Then what about the humans?
Next he looked toward the corner of the city where the humans had packed themselves in for shelter. Thousands of life-signs clustered like a swarm of cockroaches—disgusting, yet tempting.
Sacrificing living beings was more complex than inanimate objects… without prior preparation, and while fighting Mammon, it would be nearly impossible…
But success would pay handsomely. It might even be better than the snake pup that would take so much effort to subdue.
He did not need that much Demon Energy simply to finish Mammon, after all.
"…What? I thought you were on the humans' side."
When Mephisto's gaze lingered on the people, Mammon was the one who flinched.
He knew how effective human sacrifice could be, yet he had never expected Mephisto—who had saved the heroes—to consider using humans as fuel.
"What a thoroughly unpleasant misunderstanding. Why would I take the humans' side?"
"Then why are you fighting me?!"
"You pissed me off."
…Lunatic. Absolute lunatic!
At last Mammon understood the words Mephistopheles had denied earlier—not betrayal, but simple refusal.
The bastard had never sided with the gods, nor felt pity for humans.
He was simply living exactly as he pleased, the same way he had in Hell. Exactly the right Satan had once promised him—living however he wanted!
So of course it was not betrayal!
"You really are…!"
Absurd, yet fine. Whether betrayal or murder for the sake of a temper, the fact that Mammon's own neck was on the line remained identical.
In a way it was even a relief. Honestly, Mephisto trying to kill him because he could not control his own foul temper suited the demon far better than fighting for the sake of mere humans.
"Enough—die!"
Setting that aside, Mammon drew power to counter the threat.
His target was the humans he had previously dismissed as midges. If Mephisto recovered by devouring them, it would be disastrous; they were the obvious priority.
A tidal wave of lava began to surge toward the last stragglers of the evacuation.
「Do you intend to break our promise?」
Meanwhile Mephistopheles found himself annoyed in his own way. The moment the conversation with Mammon ended, the voice that had been quietly withdrawn began throttling him with talk of the contract.
I already saved the four humans as promised, didn't I?
「You were about to use civilians as sacrifices! You even put them in danger!」
As long as the promised ones don't die, what's the problem?
Red hair, green hair, two-tone hair, platinum hair. All of them rescued.
Whatever died after that… well. Those people had more than enough strength to dodge a mere wave of lava. If they still failed to dodge and died, that was on them, was it not?
So why was that suddenly his fault? Why? He had already paid a proper price. He had even endured becoming a hunting dog against the contractor's will just so Gretchen would not suffer—why!
Why the hell was any of this his responsibility!
Irritation became wrath, and wrath became pure fuel that stoked his flames higher.
Fire lanced straight into the opening Mammon left while turning his attention to the humans.
「…And this is the same bastard who asked whether I would stand by and watch innocents die!」
Even then the contractor's roar thundered inside his skull. Ridiculous.
You believed that, brat?
Nothing was more foolish than seeking good faith from a demon. When the former Deceiver himself was the subject, it was doubly so.
「…You!」
Stop being a nuisance. You already knew, didn't you? That I would never truly help something as worthless as a human.
If it meant snatching the initiative Gretchen still clutched, he could mouth any lie that matched the other party's temperament.
After all, they were not binding each other with a proper contract—just a few words that might let him seize the vessel. Why not?
Once he had it, the world would be his alone. Once he had it, empty promises could be ignored completely!
So whether Gretchen or the contractor, matching their expectations for the sake of gain was no trouble at all.
Until now, that had been true.
「…Yeah. That's just like you.」
When he made no attempt to hide his shamelessness, contempt filled the contractor's voice. Mephisto did not care; he held the contractor in equal contempt.
「But you don't get to do whatever you want.」
Yet moments like this truly grated. Mephisto's brow twisted hard. The wrath that accumulated against everything, every second, burned hotter still.
An explosion bloomed from their clash with Mammon.
「Keep the promise.」
I kept the promise!
「Keep it. If you don't want to die.」
Damn it all! Why did he have to protect mere humans! In his entire existence there was nothing so worthless, so meaningless, so utterly useless—why did he have to guard them!
What changes if I protect those things?!
Even if he planned to use them as sacrifices, the math stayed the same. The power spent protecting them versus the power gained by offering them—while fighting through Mammon's interference—would cancel out.
No profit! No gain for him at all!
So why did he have to move? If those weaklings died, that was their own fault—why did he have to volunteer for sacrifice!
「Keep it.」
Yet there was no real choice. Forced action or forced witnessing of death—Mephistopheles's decision was obvious.
Fine. I'll grant it a hundred times over—I'll protect them.
Survival. For the sake of living he could lower his head as far as necessary.
But how exactly am I supposed to protect them? You don't actually think stubbornness alone will cut it, do you?
He would not accept pure coercion, however.
Even killing Mammon already demanded every possible sacrifice; protecting that many humans on top of it was simply impossible in reality.
Let's compromise, little one. If you only demand one-sided losses, I'll start feeling slighted.
No matter how vital survival was, bowing too low only invited exploitation. Mephisto knew that, so he swallowed his fury and sneered.
The contractor fell silent for a stretch. Another explosion rocked the space between Mephisto and Mammon.
「…If it's a sacrificial offering, you already have one prepared.」
Ha—where in this place would I find a sacri—
This brat was mocking him. The thought froze Mephistopheles mid-motion.
There was a sacrifice. There most certainly was.
「Don't use all of it.」
He had not prepared it for this moment; he had prepared it because of Gretchen… yet a usable apparatus existed all the same.
Hah. Hahaha! Mephisto's lips curved in smooth delight.
"Humans really are fools."
"…?"
But even mockery had its limits. A foolish contractor, put another way, simply maximized Mephisto's profit.
"Not a single person will ever recognize your devotion and sacrifice."
"What the…"
Mephistopheles clashed with Mammon once more, then used the rebound to put serious distance between them.
The sudden reverse of his previous closing pattern put Mammon on guard.
"What, planning to sacrifice the humans?"
"No. Well… maybe you're half right?"
Mammon put zero faith in Mephistopheles's denial. If he were not protecting the humans, there was no reason to stand in front of a tidal wave of lava and risk being swept away.
"Go ahead and try, Mephisto."
Yet Mammon made no real effort to stop him. Burning away every last bit of the lava he had raised would demand extreme Demon Energy expenditure even from Mephisto.
He might fail to burn it all and simply waste every drop of power.
"I'll enjoy watching you thrash about."
Even if he somehow burned it all, then what? To offer living beings required binding their souls and preserving the body's value with preparatory magic.
Carving a formation with fire would not be hard… but Mammon would never sit idle for that either.
In the end Mephisto would spend Demon Energy and still fail to complete the sacrifice—pure profit for Mammon.
Wary of the unreadable intent yet still relatively at ease, he watched Mephisto work. The fool would regret it. Had Mephisto not muttered those earlier words, Mammon would have maintained that attitude to the very end.
"O ancient magic."
"…?!"
Mammon's eyes flew wide.
"O ancient magic."
"O absolute law."
"O scales of the cosmos."
⟨ Bestow the rightful price. ⟩
"You…!"
Using that magic without a sacrifice? No—there was not even a magic circle prepared!
How?
The claim that he would enjoy watching became meaningless; Mammon lunged at once. His long-honed instinct screamed that he must leave no room, and that made him faster still.
"A fitting recompense."
Yet the speed of the rite itself was faster. Offering a sacrifice normally required several stages; Mephisto had simply skipped every single one.
As though everything had been prepared in advance, as though he were reusing something cast long ago, as though fulfilling a contract already sealed!
Wait—reuse? Contract?
Before Mammon could fully grasp it, the old law answered.
Above Mephistopheles's hand bloomed the power he had once received in exchange for a portion of the Thousand Hands.
Latel. The black-and-white blade swept out, and in that instant the turbulent world fell utterly still.
Then, from the heart of that silence, the fire that no force had ever been able to extinguish—the fire aimed at the world itself—erupted.