What If (4)
Ha.
The moment the blade sank into the knight's chest, Mephistopheles let out a sharp peal of laughter. Her white hair swayed with it, looking all the more colorless against the pure black of her clothes.
You dare threaten me with your life?
She had fallen from the sky, and as she watched the red liquid slowly beginning to pool, she ground her teeth.
You dare… me?
Once it filled all the way up, this body would die. It would die and crumble to dust.
And when that happened, the soul bound to him by contract would end up in much the same state—gasping for ages. Broken, shattered, crawling wretchedly across the floor until the cracks were filled in.
That damn little bitch…
That was something she refused. That alone, she refused. Mephistopheles recalled the helplessness of the time her own body had been taken from her. The shattering of a soul would be a shock on par with that, and she never wanted to go through such a thing again.
Her hand tugged once more at the sleeve of the clothes that wrapped her body with an almost obsessive neatness.
Boom!
At the same time, her foot slammed down upon the earth of the mental landscape. The liquid that had begun to collect below rose up and started flowing back to where it had come from.
Death would never get to sink its teeth into this body.
"It's pointless."
Then, from the corner of the mental landscape, someone spoke. The soul, shriveled over the span of years, could only manage a voice that was old and worn, at odds with its appearance.
Who decides that?
But she couldn't care less. Instead of sympathy, Mephistopheles spat irritation; instead of agreement, rage. The truth was, those words were right. At this rate, she would lose. That feeling, however, was tucked tightly away, not a single speck of it allowed to show on the outside.
Deception and lies. Those had been the first praises she had ever seized.
"…You've lost."
So who decides that, she meant.
At the same time, she dug out a hidden truth from the subtle slowness of the other's words.
Foolish thing. You aren't even sure of your own victory. That was rather good news for Mephistopheles.
Good. If she used this well, she could somehow avoid both the future where she had no choice but to die without recourse, and the ending where that damned Gretchen held her weakness and used her over and over.
Keh-keh-keh. A laugh that was swallowed rather than released rang through the empty world. The other flinched, giving her another opening.
Kid, you don't actually think this is the end, do you? That he'll die, that he'll go back to where he belongs?
"…You can't save him."
Oh, you really think so?
A little more pressure should do it. Mephistopheles was certain of that as she roughly shaped a chair into being.
A throne that collapsed and regenerated over and over soon took form.
Really?
"…Yes."
Lie.
With a languid motion, she settled onto the chair. The long robe that had hung like a cloak folded up and was drawn to her knees, revealing a slender ankle hidden by the hem of her trousers.
No bare skin showed, yet the idly swinging foot made it impossible to tell whether her composure was feigned or genuine. The other, still unable to read Mephistopheles's hand, tensed again.
If this fight continued, she was the one who would lose before long—and yet there the other was, fretting without knowing it. How stupid.
Mephistopheles sneered inwardly at the sight.
You already know, don't you. That Gretchen has learned far too much.
"……"
But it was precisely because her opponent was this foolish that she could pull a con.
My not being able to win… doesn't mean I've lost. Right?
"……!"
If she could draw on all her power it might be different, but most of it was bound by the contract right now. She was hard-pressed just to keep the blood flowing and the oxygen from running short, let alone plug the hole in the heart—and the other didn't know that.
Didn't know that even in the Great Forest, without the follow-up measures the humans around them had taken, saving him would have failed.
Didn't know that while the lessening of the Concealment of Ignorance had increased her room to intervene, that merely meant she could last an hour instead of thirty minutes!
That was why she could deceive like this.
Mephistopheles leaned back in the chair and once more let a laugh slip out as if swallowing it.
Well then, let's speak frankly. In this endless contest of spear and shield, who exactly is going to win? That guy who has to keep stabbing his own heart until he dies? Or me, who has to keep healing that heart until he gives up?
"…You."
Who do you think will have the harder time holding out?
"……!"
Well then, time to cook and eat this foolish, ignorant thing. With that thought, Mephistopheles whispered as if singing.
Of course you'll still think that way. Even if it takes a while, as long as he dies it'll be more profitable for that person. That person will just suffer a little and would rather go home… But is that really true? Is there any guarantee that someone who has stabbed their own heart multiple times will be able to lead a normal life once they're back?
"…Kh!"
Ah, poor, pitiful Gretchen. How did she ever fall into the hands of someone so cruel and ruthless.
"…Shut up."
How… did she get driven into a situation where even if she hangs herself, there's no one to stop her, no one to help her.
"Shut up!"
Haha, kiddo. You shouldn't take out your own self-loathing on someone else… This was purely your choice, wasn't it?
Really, it was almost boring how she jumped the second she was lightly scratched.
So then… why don't you make a decision. Will you gamble by leaving things alone, or will you ease his suffering…
This is why young, immature things are no good. Mephistopheles smoothly curved her lips upward and waited for an answer. Splash, splash. As a result of thrashing about within the bounds of not being noticed by the other, the red water was now touching her ankles.
"…I have conditions."
…Oh dear. I didn't think you'd look down on Gretchen this much.
"Take it or leave it. We'll just see who tires out first."
……
But even this would swell enough to be obvious in thirty or forty minutes. Before then, she had to coax that damned brat and win the right to use her power.
Mephistopheles kept a faint smile and pretended to "hear her out."
"Give it back. The power Yukgui was rightfully meant to have."
If the damned brat hadn't made a demand that crossed the line, she probably would have. Veins stood out on the hand hidden by her glove.
"Without that, I won't allow it."
Has she been found out? Has she? Mephistopheles stared hard into the wavering pupils. No—the kid wasn't certain either. But still…
You've lost all sense of fear.
"I told you. If you don't like it, refuse."
The other side had simply weighed Gretchen's treatment—having to attempt self-harm for who knew how many more tens of days—against what she herself might do once she had Yukgui's power, and thrown it out there.
Yes. That was all it was.
I'll take it.
"Fine."
Flames began to drip from the tips of Mephistopheles's collar.
Yukgui calmly watched the one who had stabbed his own chest.
It wasn't that he particularly wanted to look. He simply had no power, and watching was all he could do, so he stayed silent.
…Should I call him even now.
No. In truth, there was at least one method. After all, just because he had no ability didn't mean the same went for everyone else.
Moreover, he had the ability, right this very moment, to convey the scene to Sangun. He only had to wish it. If he recognized Sangun and called his name, passing on a message would take less than a second.
In other words, if he truly meant to intervene in this mad act, Yukgui could.
Do I really have to spend my twilight years watching crap like this…
And at the same time, he couldn't. Sadly, Yukgui fundamentally had zero ability to save the knight. He had no power to persuade him not to fall off the cliff, no power to resolve the paradox of having to choose death in order to live.
So how could he stop it? To say "that's not right" without offering any alternative or plan would just be another form of harm. He had no right to stop the knight's gamble.
…Sangun.
Yeah?
When you come later… don't just come empty-handed. Grab some more food. Something good for recovering strength.
Oh. Got it.
Also, he had no desire to show this insane sight to his descendant. Yukgui lowered his head, wondering if his choice was truly right.
The heretic inquisitor Daniel living in Deorfumain, was it…
In the midst of it, he also tried to remember the request the knight had left. If this attempt turned out as the knight hoped, all well and good—but there was a chance it wouldn't, so he had no choice.
If he couldn't even grant a request like this, he would never be able to lift his head until the day he died.
Deorfumain… Inquisitor Daniel… Deor… aigoo, why do humans use such tongue-twisting pronunciations?
But… as he turned the words over so as not to forget them, a slight question arose.
From context, Deorfumain had to be a city name, and Daniel a person's name… just what kind of relationship did they have that he'd asked for his body to be delivered? Well, was it a relative of his original body or something? But if it was a heretic inquisitor, they'd be affiliated with a temple. Even as a relative, would a temple person treat the corpse of someone steeped in Demon Energy kindly?
…Give me a break.
Who knows. If he asks to send it, I'll send it. And he's not dead yet anyway.
Yukgui muttered as much and curled his body a little tighter in a gloomy mood. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Accompanied by the sound of dripping water, time ticked by.
Ha.
And exactly twenty minutes after the wound had been carved into the knight's heart, the wound on the heart closed in an instant, and the knight opened his eyes.
Eyes that had been tinged with a bit of gloom, thin hope, and resignation before he collapsed were now slowly being heated by wrath.
A mere human.
It wasn't simply anger at having to go this far. Wrath whose very root was different. A vicious blaze that wanted to burn everything in the world.
You dare mock me…?
…Crazy.
That damned fire he'd seen in the human city.
I'll kill you. I will definitely kill you.
But it was caged. Even though there shouldn't be chains in this world that could hold fire, it was bound and suppressed by iron chains.
That was Yukgui's only hope.
…W-what. Why'd you wake up all of a sudden and start freaking out?
Even as he felt a subtle pressure from the difference in power, Yukgui put strength into his neck and legs. After all, the years engraved into his soul would not allow him to flinch in fear even before a bound beast.
Halt.
A left eye dyed a grayish red fixed precisely on him.
"Let's make a deal with our names on the line, you musty beast."
…What's this crazy demon brat suddenly popping out and yapping about.
Had the knight known this would happen and stabbed his own heart? But if he knew, shouldn't he have not done it? Even if he was being forced, unleashing a demon in this forest was repaying kindness with enmity, wasn't it!
"It won't be a loss for you."
While Yukgui howled with all sorts of imaginings, the awakened demon flicked her fingers. The zweihander that had been carefully stood nearby melted like slime at the signal.
Crack. The white shadow pooled on the floor gaped its mouth open after that.
That's…
Something that had dozed and dozed again at the boundary of dimensions, left as pure power alone, thrust out through the mouth-hole of the white shadow.
Yukgui's eyes flew wide. That was his power.
"What you need to do is simple. Stay silent about whatever happened after this human fell asleep, and at the same time, if this human says anything, go along with it."
In the meantime, the demon sheathed the dagger and removed the gauntlet as she spoke in a low, even voice. The irritable tone made plain how little she liked this act.
…The conditions are so good I can't actually believe them.
But how was he supposed to believe that? Yukgui glared at the demon without dropping his guard. A grayish red the dull color of a crushed lotus, of water-washed pink cloth, fixed on him in turn.
Drip, drip. Black flames fell from the hem of her clothes.
"Does your belief matter?"
That bastard's eyes have gone round the bend. Yukgui reflexively shut his mouth before the snarling demon.
Whoosh. As if she had expected as much, the demon gathered flame at her fingertips. What soon formed was a single contract.
"What matters isn't mutual trust. It's what each of us gains from this deal."
A contract governed by ancient magic can be read even without knowing the letters, and can be seen even by the blind. Thanks to that trait, Yukgui could check the contents of the contract held out to him.
What the demon had said earlier was laid out in finer detail, written thoroughly so no loophole could be exploited.
There were no special poison clauses.
…Why?
"Accept, or refuse. Your choices are one of the two."
Anyway, the ones in that body are all equally lacking in manners. Yukgui narrowed his eyes at the demon's words.
"Choose."
The orb of power that had originally been his, yet had been plundered, rolled about in the demon's palm.
…I'll accept.
He didn't understand the meaning of this deal, but he was certain this pitiful one would lose yet another clue.
But what could he do? He had clearly told the knight. The only one who can be your eternal ally is yourself. Even those who seem like allies for now may stab you in the back at any time.
"Good."
……
And so Yukgui… chose the option that would benefit him a little more than the knight. He didn't feel good about it.
The orb dropped in front of him, and the demon collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.
…I've never had a good aftertaste from getting mixed up with demon brats, really.
Yukgui took the power that had been his into his mouth and carried it inside his shell. If he consumed this power with his shriveled vessel as it was, his body would clearly burst, so he intended to take time and absorb it slowly.
Whew.
Of course, throughout it the knight would keep catching his eye. Damn it.
Blame me…
But… but…
Ha. With a lament, Yukgui even gave up muttering excuses to himself. Instead he waited for the knight to open his eyes.
A long while later, gray-tinged pupils quietly peeked out between the eyelids.
"…When did I collapse?"
And the question that came with it was something he couldn't answer—not by the contract, and not by how he felt right now.
You…
"Ah… I'm sorry. I made a mistake."
But the knight did not linger long over having fainted.
…What? It was then that Yukgui, who had been opening and closing his mouth without managing a word, felt something odd.
"I'm sorry. I'm still inexperienced."
But the knight didn't even give him time to think.
"I won't make that mistake again."
The right hand from which the demon had removed the gauntlet was raised in line with his gaze. Between the slipped bandages, the exposed black flesh was full of Demon Energy.
"How is it? Has the Demon Energy been concealed?"
No—it had been full.
Until it turned pale and white like the skin elsewhere.
"Did I succeed?"
Yukgui found himself unable to say a single word.