Evaluation Match (3)
In my past life as the Demon King, I killed countless humans.
Even if I've forgotten now, I trampled innumerable lives and piled their corpses into towers.
I accumulated karma so vast I couldn't even speak of life's sanctity.
Ultimately, I became a sinner who forgot even the lives I'd crushed.
That's me—and because it's me, I can say this with certainty.
Humans aren't noble.
Humans aren't good.
Humans are selfish.
Humans... are cruelly vicious.
I know not all humans are like that.
Yusiel Merhen.
Aen Arbel.
The silver-haired woman and the Saintess. And finally, one more I haven't met yet.
These five heroes burned themselves out just to kill me.
Sublime souls who sacrificed themselves to slay me, the incarnation of pure evil.
Yes, that spirit of self-sacrifice, that pure altruism focused solely on others—it's undoubtedly noble and exalted.
But most humans? They're always out for themselves.
A race overflowing with sin, scrambling to satisfy their own selfish desires.
That's why we ascribe value like nobility and exaltation to the heroes' deeds.
How many humans could honestly disagree with me? And even if someone could, could they say it while looking at this scene?
A heap of children's corpses, their eyes, mouths, and ears sewn shut.
And one person rotting away beside them, inhaling the stench, decaying helplessly. She—this world's hero.
...Can't bear to watch.
It had been three days since I entered Aen Arbel's memories.
The only things that changed day by day were the meals delivered to Arbel and the growing pile of corpses.
Arbel's trembling, the darkness here, the fishy metallic tang of blood, the stench of the bodies.
None of it changed.
.
.
.
.
'Day seven already...'
Seven days in this sticky prison.
Nothing had changed today either.
.
.
.
.
.
'Day ten...'
Ten days into this memory now.
Arbel's trembling, the mounting corpse pile, the flies buzzing overhead.
Nothing had changed.
.
.
.
.
And so those unchanging days dragged on.
'...One month.'
One month today.
A change finally came.
"One month... no, a bit more, perhaps. Anyway, have you been well?"
A thick, low voice.
No particular emotion colored his tone.
Whether due to the dim room or magic concealing his appearance, the man's figure was blurry, hard to make out.
All I could remember was that voice.
Even with the man's voice ringing so clearly, Arbel didn't react.
Instead, the hand that had fallen limp to the floor clenched into a bloodied fist... trembling so violently.
"You don't even answer your father's words? Looks like even after all those lives, you haven't learned a thing."
The man's emotionless words ended.
At the same moment—
Snap.
The man's finger flicked once.
And then—
Thud-splat.
'...Fuck.'
A new corpse joined the pile.
Again.
Snap.
Thud-splat.
Snap. Snap. Snap...
"...Stop."
A small voice escaped Arbel.
At the same instant, the man's poised finger halted.
"Hm..."
Snap.
...The finger that had paused flicked again, a beat slower.
Grind.
The sound of Arbel's teeth gnashing echoed.
"Stop... please stop... I'm sorry..."
Blood-flecked words spilled from Arbel's labored lips.
"Good. Keep living like that from now on."
"...Yes."
Arbel's entire body burned hot as she answered.
Anyone could tell what emotion fueled that heat.
Even brimming with the urge to snap that man's neck right then—
Arbel did nothing.
No, she couldn't do anything.
As the man leisurely exited the prison with one last finger snap—
Even as the corpse pile she'd shared a month with erupted in flames—
Even as the acrid smell of burning flesh stung her nose—
Arbel could do nothing.
That's why she was furious.
That's why she was powerless.
Buried in that powerlessness for hours.
As the flames gradually died down—
A sudden headache hit, and my vision blurred.
'Guess that's it for now...'
A month was more than enough anyway.
It would've been great to see up to my past life, but that's greed with my current skills.
And I needed time to process the new info.
First, sort out the situation.
My fading vision slowly cleared.
Not the grim scene from before, but a cozier, warmer space.
'My room...?'
No.
It was too empty for my room—barely a bed, no furniture, no trinkets. Just this one bed I was lying on.
The layout was the same, so someone else's dorm room.
But... no sign of the owner.
Normally, I'd still be rolling around that island, fighting alongside Arbel.
Being here now meant one of two things.
Either the Academy rescued us both.
Or Arbel, who woke first for some reason, carried me to her room.
'...No clue.'
...Doesn't matter which. Not in the mood to care, and this incident netted me some huge info anyway.
First off, the Taboo etched on my right ring finger.
The church defines countless Taboos.
Why? Because of their danger.
Most Taboos are high-risk, high-reward.
True to the name, they yield massive results defying causality.
And the world doesn't overlook that defiance.
New causality arises to match the premature outcome.
It's a violation of the world's laws, plain and simple.
That's why the church designates and controls them.
Most people never encounter or experience them.
Of course... I'm not most people.
'My neck stings.'
Feels like a crown of thorns jammed in there.
Arbel endured this like a champ.
I glanced at my reflection in the nearby mirror.
Looked normal at first.
Until I moved my hand from my neck.
"...Gonna need a scarf or something."
Through the gap as I pulled my hand away, a black engraving appeared.
A chain pattern matching the ring on my right ring finger.
A Taboo.
Taboos attract each other.
That's how I spotted the one on Arbel's neck when she showed up—thanks to my right-hand Taboo tormenting me relentlessly.
All Taboos brim with self-loathing.
Whether the one on my finger or this new one on my neck.
They devour each other on sight, crushing any inferior ones.
That's why I pressed my right hand to Arbel's neck.
I had no idea about their hierarchy... but it felt like my only shot at survival.
I just hoped the nasty bastard on my finger outranked the choker strangling her neck.
And it worked out as I wanted.
Though I have no clue why it jumped from her neck to mine.
But the one on my finger's keeping it in check, so no big issue.
If anything, removing whatever bound Arbel improved things.
I have no idea what this Taboo does...
Well, I can just ask the Saintess or Arbel later.
Still, a Taboo higher-ranked than one strong enough to bind a hero's reincarnation...
"What the hell did I even get?"
This thing I got as a dungeon reward being higher-grade than expected... bittersweet.
The sad part? I could get purged by the church anytime.
The glad part? At least this worthless body has something worthwhile attached.
Honestly... even the glad part's iffy.
I don't know how to use this Taboo properly...
A few days ago, after badgering the Saintess, she said it turns others' experiences into your own.
Honestly, no idea what that means.
Last time she made me try it on her, it felt like peeking into memories...
'But this time felt different...'
It wasn't this clear before either.
Even after using this Taboo twice now—
I know zilch about its risks.
Whether that's its only effect.
Or how it relates to jumping from Arbel's neck to mine.
Nothing.
'Sigh... whatever.'
Thinking just gives me a headache and nothing else.
Anyway, two big pieces of info from this.
One: my ring-finger Taboo's higher-grade than I thought.
Two: the hero party's reincarnations might not be the first time.
The man who visited Arbel on her memory's final day.
He clearly said:
'All those lives...'
Obviously not talking one or two reincarnations.
No need for 'countless' otherwise.
For me, who burned all past-life memories, every keyword like this is gold.
Problem is... those lost memories mean I can't do shit alone.
Even if it's about my past self.
Ah! Feels familiar! And that's it.
Nothing more.
This case too.
'...Driving me nuts.'
...I'm so damn useless.
"Argh... screw it."
Better to bulldoze straight ahead than stew like this.
"Frontal assault it is."
I'll just ask Arbel directly.
Until then... snoop around the room...?
'No impure motives...'
Nothing else to do.
That's all.
Mm-hmm.
Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting a holy glow around the room.
The glass depicted tales of God from the church scriptures.
Inside the prayer room, filled with God's comforting presence, rows of simple wooden pews stood ready.
And at the center.
A dais one step higher than the pews.
Atop it.
A woman lounged with legs crossed, basking in the sacred sunlight.
And opposite her.
A woman with deep dark circles pushed through the large doors.
The frantic entrant was Aen Arbel, daughter of the Tower Master.
The woman on the dais watched her.
Cigarette in mouth, eyes forged cold as steel.
With the gaze of judgment.
Gazing upon the sinner who had finally repented her crimes.