Acceptable (8)
Clang!
"Don't rush me, Gretchen. Once this kid loses his strength, I'll deal with you whether you like it or not."
The thrown blade, of course, failed to land. The one who batted the sword aside with a sharp nail curled her lips into a smirk.
"Go fuck yourself."
But would he back down over that? He generated a few more daggers and flung them. Clang, clang, clang. Not a single one connected, yet it felt a good deal better. At last he could throw a knife at that bastard, if nothing else.
"What a nobody……."
"…You shouldn't rush in carelessly."
The boy, however, did not seem particularly pleased with his help.
Ever since he had bound the demon's arm, the boy had shown no special movement, so it was unlikely the dagger-throwing itself had gotten in the way. It simply seemed that the protagonist's very act of joining the fight made him uncomfortable.
"Your soul is vast enough to suppress a demon, but that demon is cunning enough to pry its way out of your soul and ravage the world."
"Explain it properly. Are you telling me to be careful, or that I shouldn't charge in at all?"
"…An image body doesn't die even if you kill it. All that happens is that the mind, forced to endure every torment, is worn down to nothing."
Perhaps because of everything he had already been through, his tone came out a little curt even when speaking to a child. The boy paid the thorns no mind and simply continued his warning.
"A broken mind narrows one's vision and makes one chase only the salvation right in front of them—without ever knowing whether it is false or true."
Beneath the whispering voice lay layer upon layer of crushing fatigue and regret, propping everything up.
"…You must not do that. If you do, the demon will devour you."
It was the foundation the boy had suffered through and built all alone.
"So please stay behind. I will be the one to fight."
Even if his throat was crushed, even if a blade was driven through him, he would not die. The weight of what the demon had said settled faintly into his hands.
"Sacrificial spirit, is it… how very admirable."
Before he knew it, he was looking at the boy who had stepped in front of him. The boy's back was still small. As growing children who have not yet finished growing always are.
"But I told you already. No more. You no longer have the right to stand on this stage."
At the same time, the boy was a knight. The straight back, the properly spaced legs, the two hands gripping the sword firmly—all of it proved as much.
"I know."
A sword blazing with dazzling light flared to life. That light was gold rather than amber, a sun rather than a torch.
A blade burning more fiercely than any bonfire illuminated the crumbling world.
"Even so, I will stand in your way. Just as I always have."
The boy's hair, dyed in gold, glittered like embers reborn from ashes.
"No. You can't."
"……!"
Yet that beautiful light failed to change the tide.
Boom! The instant the jet-black flame blade in the demon's hand clashed with the boy's sword, the collapse of the white world accelerated. The horizon had already been swallowed by black, and now the scenery on either side was cracking and shattering as well.
"Fulfill the 'promise.'"
"Kh…!"
The boy poured more strength into his resistance, but it was useless. The cracking might slow, yet it would not stop.
Only then did he come to his senses. A sword born in his own hand stabbed into the demon's side.
"…Annoying."
"Ah!"
Knight or not, the boy was ultimately a child, and he was an adult. And once you became an adult, being protected by a kid was simply not something that could be allowed. Even if that kid had done something unforgivable to him, even if he had committed a sin the entire world would point at, it made no difference.
No matter the sin, children deserved the chance to atone—if only because they were children.
"Wanted to experience death, Gretchen?"
"Already experienced the hell out of it, so not really?"
He had never wanted to clash with the knight again… but the demon was no knight, so it should be fine. He kicked hard at the leg of the demon who had dodged his blade.
"Useless."
Yet when you stirred smoke that had taken shape with your hand, the form merely crumpled without vanishing. The demon's body was the same.
Its leg dispersed like flame, like smoke, letting his kick pass through, then recombined and returned to its original state. At the unexpected reaction, his eyes went wide.
"Have you forgotten whose power was supporting the you outside?"
But he was not given long to be surprised. Whoosh. Flames erupted from her hand and poured over his body. He scrambled to roll across the ground, yet the fire still caught one of his arms.
"—!!"
He could not even scream. He simply opened his mouth under the pain that seared his skin and ate away at what lay beneath. It was pain on a level similar to being struck by Holy Power.
"Pull yourself together and picture yourself without the wound!"
Thankfully, the moment he followed the boy's advice, the flames devouring his body vanished. More precisely, the boy swiftly cut away the burning spot and cast the fire off.
Clang! Clang!
While the boy and the demon exchanged three more exchanges, he barely managed to regenerate the area. Being able to heal just by wishing for it was nice, yet in every other way it left a foul taste.
"If you don't keep your mind together, you die on the spot, huh… this structure……."
"Exactly. So, want to give up?"
"Fuck off……."
He clamped down on his trembling hand and tightened his grip on the sword. The pain that reached him fully, without the cheat of pain-threshold adjustment, was tremendous, yet he had hurt this badly often enough lately that he could endure it.
Clang!
"Ah, I shouldn't swear……."
His blade knocked aside the flames that had been about to cut the boy down.
"Honestly, those with vast souls are so damn stubborn for no reason."
At that, the demon tried a few more attacks, realized they would not work, and simply leaped back. The brief lull gave him a chance to catch his breath.
"Fine. Time is on my side anyway."
Exchanging blows did not seem to be a necessary act. From the demon's words he roughly gauged the situation. It could be a lie, of course, but seeing the boy remain silent made it feel not entirely off the mark.
"…Hey."
"…Did you call me?"
"Beating that thing is meaningless, right?"
Still, just in case, he confirmed the truth. The boy nodded with a heavy face.
"Unless you overwhelm it… in a situation like this, there's little point."
"There's two of us."
"It's because there are two of us that we're holding the line. Originally……."
Crack. Just as the boy was about to say something, a fissure split across the world with a sharp snap. It was different in nature from the continuous collapse. This was a break so clear it caught the eye— as if something had influenced it.
"…Was that because of the Concealment of Ignorance just now?"
"…That as well, but the root cause lies elsewhere."
"You broke a rule?"
"How did you……."
"You said it right out loud, so what else would I……."
If someone ranted like that in front of another person, anyone would be able to guess. He clenched and unclenched the regenerated skin while turning the matter over in his mind.
He was not so skilled at image combat that he could thrash that demon, and according to the boy, trading blows like this would not fix the crumbling world. Better, then, to poke at the fundamental problem.
"…So in the end, the reason you kept your mouth shut with me was because of the contract. You broke the rule first and handed the demon the advantage."
He brushed his hair back while watching the boy shift uncomfortably and glance around.
If Munmunt had never fallen into danger, would the kid have kept silent to the very end? Looking at this mess, he probably would have. The crumbling white world did not look like a good sign for their side no matter how you sliced it.
"Yes. Sharp as ever, Gretchen."
"…And the promise that has to be fulfilled?"
"You're already expecting it, so why ask?"
But did he regret using Munmunt as leverage? Not really. Even if it had been for his sake, having his eyes and ears covered while someone else steered him was irritating. Walking an endless tunnel with no end in sight was also thoroughly tiresome.
He needed an answer.
An answer he could aim for, or an answer that would let him tie off without regret the life he had left behind on Earth—anything that would let him put some part of his life in order.
"The transmission of truth. That is the promise you and that brat made, isn't it?"
And that answer needed only a few sentences.
"Is that so? Then answer just one—no, two things."
Of course it would be nice to know everything, but if that happened the Concealment of Ignorance would shatter completely. Considering the effect that would have on him, he could give up a large portion of the truth. It was not as if those facts would send him home anyway.
"……?"
"Can I go home or not?"
So he decided to discard every petty detail—how this boy had summoned him, whether the bodies used had truly belonged to criminals, why it had been him of all people, how the boy had known the settings he had written for the "Demon Knight" and shaped him accordingly.
"I won't sell a chance to go home for mere curiosity. I only need to hear what I need most. So tell me—can I go home or not."
If he could return, he could carry as much curiosity as he liked for the rest of his life.
Under his gaze the boy bit his lip, then muttered as if exhaling.
"Y-you can go."
One corner of the world collapsed with a heavy crunch. Perhaps because so much had fallen at once, the fine cracking no longer progressed.
Maybe the fulfillment of the present promise had halted the smaller collapses.
"How do I go home?"
"Th-that is……."
But what would happen if all this white crumbled away? At the very least, nothing good.
So he asked the second question he longed for most. This would be his final inquiry.
"If you meet death—that is, if the body you are currently using meets death… or if you do not fall for ten years… you can return to your original world."
CRACK!
As though a massive iceberg had given way, another huge chunk of the world caved in. Even though the answer that reached him was not as unexpected as he might have thought.
"…But with conditions like that, why keep quiet with me?"
Death. Corruption. Looking at how demons behaved in literature, it was nothing new. Besides, knowing was a far more convenient condition for dealing with things than not knowing.
So why had the boy never said it? He had even worried he might have to kill a ton of people and offer them as sacrifices, yet with this, wouldn't it have been better to just speak up and ask for cooperation?
Of course the period was a bit long. Quite a bit long, actually.
"That is……."
"Ah, never mind. If telling me would put that thing at an advantage, don't. I'm not that curious."
In truth he was immensely curious, yet not as much as he wanted to go home.
He mulled over the conditions he had just heard instead. The body dies, or he holds out for ten years. At least no one had to be offered up, so that was a relief.
"That's enough. I've heard it all. What do we do now?"
"Th……."
"Oh dear, how unfortunate."
Yet contrary to his wish, the situation did not wrap up. The demon grinned.
"First, I'll praise your cleverness in sorting priorities, Gretchen. That craftiness of trying to keep the Concealment of Ignorance without even knowing the exact situation is clearly the mark of a smart one."
Rustle. At the same time, cracks ran through the chains binding her arms. Beyond the broken world, a gigantic hand of flame seized the wall of the world.
"But a 'promise' is not something so casually fulfilled. Since I, the mediator of the promise at the time of its formation, defined the concept of 'truth' as 'every fact concerning the circumstances,' it must be carried out exactly as such."
"What?"
"Meaning you cannot just hear what you want to hear and end it there."
For a moment he failed to grasp the opponent's words and had to turn them over more carefully. Every fact concerning the circumstances. Unpacking it further, it seemed to mean the entire story of how they had ended up like this.
"You……."
"I-I'm sorry……."
He reflexively looked back at the boy. The boy's face had gone unspeakably pale. It seemed the boy had realized his own mistake as well.
"No, this fucking……."
He was about to voice the words his heart demanded, then swallowed them. In that brief span the child was trembling so pitifully it hurt to watch. That was the last thread of his reason.
"…So I have to hear everything?"
"That's right."
"…I'm fine with just this."
"Then you should have drafted the wording precisely when you made the promise."
Yet the demon standing before him gently scratched at that last thread of reason.
"As the mediator of the promise, I do not judge the present exchange to be proper. Therefore you must hear every truth—whether you wish to or not."
An adult who tricked an ignorant child and took advantage. He had seen this kind of bastard plenty of times before.