The World (12)
“You.”
Mammon spoke while facing the half of the city that had vanished as if evaporated.
“You made a wish contract.”
The lava he had spread to massacre the humans was gone. That, too, had already evaporated.
“You went and made a wish contract with a human.”
The same was true of the half of his own body that corresponded to it. Mammon covered the vanished half of himself with one hand and dug his nails in.
Wrath was not even the domain he governed, yet rage surged up all the same.
“You…!”
Contracts between humans and demons were usually loan contracts.
And a loan contract meant that once the contractor paid a price, the demon lent the contractor power equal to that price.
Whether the contractor used the received price to strengthen themselves or traded it with another demon, the point was that power still had to be lent to the contractor first.
From a demon’s perspective, a loan contract spared them the bother of moving personally; even if the contractor died, they only lost the power they had lent—and with luck they could even reclaim it. There was little real loss to the demon themselves.
A wish contract, on the other hand?
A wish contract was different. The offered sacrifice was always given to the demon in the form of power, and in exchange the demon was obligated to grant the contractor’s wish.
Since no power had been lent, the demon would not lose power even if the contractor died—but they had to accept moving personally instead.
Moreover, a wish contract still had to be fulfilled even if the contractor died. If the wish was riddled with loopholes, wriggling free was possible, but if it was airtight it could become a contract packed with nothing but losses for the demon.
It depended all the more on the form the wish took.
“But with whom, exactly? I couldn’t find any trace of a contract on you…”
Yet even wish contracts had their advantages. With a wish contract alone, the moment a sacrifice was offered, power could be received at once from the ancient magic.
It was not limited to the first time; every single moment mutual agreement was reached between contractor and demon.
Just as Mephisto had just now skipped every step and received power straight from the absolute principle.
“Don’t tell me…”
“You’re slow on the uptake.”
But with whom had that Mephisto bastard contracted, and what wish had that contractor put forward?
While Mammon was trying to guess, a sharp realization struck him.
“Right. I thought it was strange. Even in a situation this disadvantageous, there was no way you’d cling to the vessel like that…!”
Before the fight began, he had thought there had to be a reason Mephisto refused to abandon the vessel even at the risk of his soul being seized by Satan or by him.
For instance… that the human soul was clinging to Mephisto’s soul so tightly that he could not even discard the vessel.
But… what if the human soul and Mephisto had made a wish contract? What if the human side had wished that Mephisto would never abandon the vessel and flee, no matter the moment?
If they had made certain that even if he was ready to be eroded, he still could not escape the vessel under any circumstances…
“Your contractor wanted mutual destruction with you, did they…?”
If Mephisto could not leave the vessel and the vessel shattered, Mephisto would die with it. Considering the disposition of the vessel that had hated demons, that was not an impossible possibility.
The problem was that once he set up that hypothesis, the events of a moment ago no longer made sense.
Of course. If the contractor had truly wanted mutual destruction with Mephisto, what reason would there have been to give him power just now?
“Exactly. That’s why it’s such a headache.”
“…Hell. The way you admit it so readily suddenly makes me think it’s not that.”
“So little trust. I’m hurt.”
…No. There might still be a reason.
Mammon recalled how Mephisto had needlessly cleared the Hero out of the way earlier.
If Mephisto’s contractor wanted to protect humans—if they had prioritized saving someone over mutual destruction with a demon—then the contradiction of a moment ago also resolved itself.
Mephisto had definitely contracted with the vessel’s original owner. The terms of the contract were still uncertain, but that much was clear.
“When you keep hiding things like this… how am I supposed to believe you!”
Mammon gathered what demon energy remained and hardened his defenses.
How had the contract even been concealed? He cast the unresolved questions beyond that point. They could wait until later.
Boom! Boom! The urgent matter now was checking Mephisto, who was charging in to target his regeneration.
“Damn it!”
Unlike Mephistopheles, his regenerative power was rather weak. There had been a reason he had spread lava to hide his body, refused to give distance, and only pecked away with long-range attacks.
But with half his body gone, that balance had become precarious. If he focused on defense his body crumbled; if he focused on recovery Mephisto’s assaults were too fierce.
Mammon’s frustration boiled over. The situation born from unexpected variables continually boring into the parts he had taken for granted was far too painful.
“What’s wrong? You said you’d enjoy watching me thrash around! Where’d that guy go, huh?!”
“Shit!”
The surging lava was cut. The sword strokes that slipped through exploded at some point and rattled the barrier he had wrapped around himself.
And the moment even a tiny hole appeared, Latel stabbed in like a sharpened spear. Just pushing it back again set every nerve on edge.
What made it even more galling was that throughout every one of these moments, the demon energy Mephisto used was only a tiny amount. The one who had seized the advantage pressed him while consuming only as much as recovered.
Unlike himself, whose consumption had grown extreme from scrambling to defend.
At this rate he would lose. Mammon realized it.
“King! Do something!”
He even tried prodding Satan, who at least ought to have been watching. But Satan did not intervene. The blessing already granted had probably been enough of a strain. That much he understood.
“Damn it!”
He understood, yet resentment still rose. He was about to die right now; of course it would.
“No, no, no!”
I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die here. I—I have to take everything in the world into my hands.
“You, you! If you kill me you’ll be alone forever—!”
“So now that you think you’ll lose, you want to threaten me?”
Mammon tried a deal out of desperation. The point was that to Isaiah, Mephisto was just as much an invader; turning even Hell, which could become an ally, into an enemy would be a loss for Mephisto as well.
“But somehow.”
As if that would ever work.
“A world of nothing but enemies is what I’m used to.”
The other party was Wrath, who had wanted to destroy even Hell.
Crunch!
Latel finally pierced every one of Mammon’s defenses and drove into his body. Mephistopheles’s flesh was not entirely unharmed either, yet he completely ignored the melting skin and locked eyes with Mammon alone.
“Let’s finish this.”
Horizontal pupils within the crimson light smirked at him.
Mephistopheles recalled the misfortune that had come like a disaster for no reason, every hardship he had suffered because of it, and every humiliation he had been forced to endure in those pitifully weak days—and unleashed all that hatred as it was.
.
.
.
Crack!
Inside a crater dozens of meters across, Mephisto pulled Latel free. What remained of Mammon’s corpse was all torn and shattered; most of it was in fragments.
Though the name and the power it held had not yet scattered, of course.
…He’s still alive.
The one who had grown weary after consuming part of his soul in the meantime whispered dryly. The voice demanding fulfillment of the promise was cracked dry yet truly stubborn.
You want me to kill even that?
If you leave that and come back, your own life will be in danger too.
Not wrong. Mephisto conceded at once.
But following along exactly… bruised his pride a little.
The corpse is mine.
He did not want to work without payment, so he would take something. He said as much, and the contractor said nothing. It was silent permission.
Even knowing that with his soul diminished, the stronger Mephisto grew the more he himself would lose, he had yielded in the end because he knew Mephisto would not move without permission.
The corner of Mephisto’s mouth curved in a sneer.
“O ancient magic.”
Of course, for that Mephisto also had to invest what needed investing.
He kindled flames, drew a makeshift magic circle, and set Mammon’s name and power—which he had been holding with demon energy—in the place of the sacrifice.
If left alone it would be purified by priests or taken by other demons anyway; there was no hesitation in offering it as a sacrifice.
"O absolute law."
"O scales of the cosmos."
⟨ The rightful price. ⟩
Whoosh, whoosh. Flames that had risen from every direction danced and chanted the spell in his place. Every time the many mouths of flame engraved the magic, the already deep night grew blacker still.
And at the hour when the world grew darkest, the scales tipped.
Mephistopheles’s sword moved once more.
—! Heat that swallowed even sound erased the entire coastal district of the city. All that remained there was the turtle’s shell, to which power had deliberately been applied weakly.
Of course only the form remained; the insides would have been thoroughly cooked. As an Ancient Beast, the snake that had hidden inside it was probably barely clinging to life.
“Hmm. No need to have offered even the name? Too much residual left.”
If it was going to be like this, maybe he should have begged to increase the total amount of power instead of a temporary buff form. He had chosen the former because the latter did not deliver power immediately.
And trying to eat and digest it himself would take time he did not have; it would only disorder the essence, so it was not worth it. The contractor would never stand for it in the first place either.
In the end this had been the best option.
Mephisto felt the regret of power that would evaporate once this time ended, yet still diligently launched the second strike. The flying flames gnawed and burned the turtle’s shell, leaving only the pure white snake behind.
“Eat.”
What came next was already decided. Latel, flung forward, received the inflated power and swelled in size.
Crunch!
The giant badger bit through the snake’s neck and swallowed it whole.
Of course it was not truly eating to digest. Latel was not a living thing, only a sophisticated device.
Instead, the gap inside Latel’s body that connected to outside the world forced itself open and stuffed the enormous thing in with effort. This, too, would have been impossible without the buff.
Taking it out later would be a bit of a problem, but by then the useless body would all have melted and only the core would remain compressed, so it would not matter.
Mephisto was satisfied with what he had gained and flicked his fingers.
…Come back already.
Suddenly the contractor who had watched it all brought up the final condition weakly.
So impatient. This is a chance I worked hard for—can’t I enjoy it a little longer?
But did he have any reason to listen? Mephisto sneered and put strength into his feet.
Thud. With a light push off the ground his body vanished for an instant. No—his body that had moved in an instant stepped outside the crater.
The robe draped over his shoulders fluttered like a cloak.
The promise is…
Certain individuals must be kept alive no matter what. Once survival is secured, return control to Gretchen. Additionally, do not touch the humans so much as a hair, and protect them if possible, and so on.
Having to return control was irritating, but better than dying like a dog to Mammon without even thrashing. That was also why he had accepted it.
But look—has survival really been secured?
Yet did he have any reason to return control right away? Even if he had fought on the humans’ side—whatever his true intentions, he had protected them, hadn’t he?—now that he had properly run wild as a demon?
Mephisto knew. The fear brought by overwhelmingly strong power.
In that case, if Gretchen took control again, would the humans try to keep this body alive? Would they not instead feel it was safer to kill him while Gretchen held control—while he was weak?
The ancient magic is still allowing it. This body’s safety isn’t secured yet.
What was the reason he had killed Mammon even while turning Hell into an enemy—strictly speaking he had never considered Hell an ally, so “turning into an enemy” was a bit of a stretch—if not for survival?
And then the body he had saved dying absurdly at human hands? That would be truly boring.
Mephistopheles did not want to leave such a risk behind. He needed a more certain guarantee.
A clearer warranty.
You bastard…
Don’t worry. I won’t kill them.
Given his nature he would have prevented it by massacring everything that could become a risk… but the contract itself blocked that. So he had no choice but to use another method.
A false move that would cut off even the possibility that they might step forward and ask him to kill once Gretchen returned.
He walked toward the humans one step, then another. He could feel his pitiful contractor stiffening with tension, but that only delighted him more.
Only when others were unhappy did his own unhappiness get covered over.
“…He’s, he’s coming.”
Fortunately the humans did not level their weapons thoughtlessly. The same went for the stupid minions of Isaiah.
With every demon having fled to avoid Mephistopheles, immediate safety and a little breathing room had been secured; they kept their faces stiff but did not charge just because he was a demon. They only watched him with wary eyes, with terrified eyes.
And that itself pleased Mephisto quite a bit. Yes—only when he reigned through fear did the world Mephisto knew become somewhat peaceful.
“Who’s the leader here?”
He would have liked to keep things just like this… but that sucker Gretchen would never allow it.
Damn Gretchen. Really never makes things easy.
“My lord!”
Before long, someone forced his way forward despite the opposition of many.
Someone he had seen through Gretchen’s vision. The owner of this city (or what had been a city), perhaps?
He had expected the Hero to come out, but this was unexpected. Or maybe not. When he stretched out his senses, that one still seemed to be unconscious.
“…Who are you?”
“Asking because you don’t know? Those servants of Isaiah already told you everything, I expect.”
Anyway, what mattered was the compromise. Mephistopheles snickered and changed Latel’s form. Latel, now a chair, supported his body while mocking the restless soldiers.
“I am Wrath, one of the Great Demons you all so desperately want to kill.”
“…….”
“At the same time, I am also a being who need not obey Satan’s orders.”
“…Is that meant to explain what just happened?”
“Explain? No, no.”
Mephistopheles slowly crossed his legs. The leisure that flowed down between the twisted legs became a single pressure the moment it reached the humans.
“This is a notification.”
The red eyes between the goat bones smiled in a circle.
“I don’t want to lose the vessel I finally obtained.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“For example, something like this.”
At the same time, with a crack, a fracture ran through the bone. The white hair that had been hanging in a messy trail, dragging along the ground, shortened upward, upward, and began to hold night within it. Hair where ash and night coexisted.
Crunch. At the same time the body covered in black demon energy and Latel grew thicker, and the form of the clothes also changed into something familiar.
“…Young master!”
“The Demon Knight…!”
“I hereby notify you of the fact that the moment you try to drive a blade into this one’s heart, I will come bursting out.”
The moment the pitch-black demon energy finally swept across the face. The moment the bone mask shattered completely with a crack.
With his fully revealed face, Mephistopheles grinned. It was a smile formed on the Demon Knight’s face.