Our Child Is a Good Girl
Those who suffer because of a cult are rarely the believers themselves. It is almost always the people around them.
The faithful believe whatever they wish to believe. They offer up body, mind, and fortune, drowning in religious ecstasy…
“Yoanna, hurry and greet the High Priest.”
“Yes. This is the savior who will lead Anna onto the righteous path.”
…while everyone around them is dragged into something they never wanted.
From the day her gentle parents began attending those strange gatherings, Yoanna’s life plummeted straight into hell.
Her parents chose faith over family. They stripped the household bare for offerings and scraped their very lives away in service.
And then—
“Grace… just a little more grace…”
“I have offered my wife and my daughter! Please, grant this father Your grace…!!”
“Do not worry. Once we reach the afterlife, our Father will pour endless grace upon us.”
Having lost money and youth alike, her parents ended their lives as sacrificial livestock in a slaughterhouse.
Little Yoanna watched their final moments and thought:
If our Father is truly all-powerful and merciful, as the High Priest claims, why did my parents have to die?
If He is worthy of worship, why does the Empire not revere our god?
Why… was my family happier when they knew nothing of the true faith?
Mother, Father… all of you are liars.
The day her parents’ ecstatic faces sank into a pool of blood, the child’s world sank with them.
Even imperfect parents leave happy memories with their child. Their deaths were more than enough to shatter that world completely.
“Here, child. Eating this will make you feel better.”
“Look over there! See how the cripple walks perfectly after receiving Father’s grace!”
All of it… is a lie.
Alone in the ruins of her world, the child learned how to survive. She learned to see through other people’s lies, the malice dressed as kindness, the fangs hidden behind soft tongues.
Only after losing her parents did Yoanna gain the ability to pierce the truth.
But what could a ten-year-old do with such a gift?
Six years passed in the underground temple, far from the Empire’s eyes. With no way to escape and no means to fight, all Yoanna could do was refuse the “grace” and resist.
“Nothing for it, then. I had planned to raise you as an attendant—your beauty rivals your parents’—but prepare her as the next sacrifice.”
Even that resistance lost all meaning with a single bored remark from Albert. In the end, the only thing left was to curse her enemies until her last breath…
“Is this… the mortal realm?”
Something answered her curse.
Lying in a pool of blood, Yoanna could do nothing. More accurately, there was nothing left for her to do.
“S-save me!!!”
The woman who had beaten her every night fled screaming. The woman Yoanna feared most—the one who had increased the lashes with every act of defiance—
Crunch!
—vanished in a spray of blood and flesh without even a chance to resist.
That was only the beginning.
The detestable cultists screamed and dissolved into handfuls of bloody water.
And then—
“Sa—!?”
Albert, the man who had seemed invincible forever, met the most horrific end of all.
Yoanna understood. Among the hands that dragged Albert away were her own parents’.
Which was why…
“You must have been terribly frightened.”
…the being before her, speaking in such a kind voice, terrified her beyond measure.
Without realizing it she had wet herself. Trembling eyes fixed on the figure in front of her.
I’ve… I’ve seen this in books. A wicked being with two horns that hungers for the souls of the dead…
A demon.
Yoanna was certain the creature smiling with those hideous teeth was a demon.
In that instant her body defied gravity and rose into the air.
“Kyaaah!?”
“Dear me. Seeing such an unsightly sight has frightened you badly. Are you cold?”
She flinched hard. The image of Albert’s face burning while he still lived flashed through her mind. The nauseating stench of melting flesh drained the color from her cheeks.
“I-I’m fine! Not cold at all—absolutely not!!”
“Saying that while shivering so hard is hardly convincing.”
Snap!
As if her answer meant nothing, the demon flicked his fingers. A momentary spark bloomed from the friction.
Yoanna squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the terror that was sure to come…
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of fire?”
The flames that spread from the demon’s fingers circled around her as if inhabited by spirits. They were so beautiful that Yoanna reached out without thinking.
N-no. If I touch them my body might burn.
She reminded herself that touching beautiful flames was still foolish. Beautiful fire still consumed everything in the end.
Then the demon, teeth hidden once more, spoke to her.
“If you wish to touch them, you may.”
Yoanna looked up at him. With no eyes and no face she could not read his intent, yet she felt no malice from him.
After a brief hesitation she stretched her hand toward the dancing flames.
“Ah…”
She smiled as she watched the fire dance upon her palm. The warmth she had waited for and longed for so long rested in her hand. Afraid it might leave, she cupped the tiny flame carefully between both palms.
“What… are you doing to me?”
“A clever child. Why did you assume I want something?”
“Because everyone wants something.”
Like Albert, who had brainwashed her parents for the god’s blessing. Like her parents, who had offered fortune and children for greater pleasure. Like Yoanna herself, who had stayed in the temple craving her parents’ love.
Every being moved only for what it desired. She had simply learned that truth a little earlier—
“True enough, yet those are not words a little girl should speak.”
“Huh?”
The demon’s hand stroked her head. The hand that looked like cooling lava was warmer than expected, and softer still.
Perhaps because that pure, simple affection was something she had missed so desperately—
“W-wait a moment.”
Tears spilled down her ruined face. Hot tears she had sworn never to shed again poured without end.
The demon did not scold her. He simply continued stroking her hair in silence.
But time is always cruelly short.
Pat-pat-pat…
“D-Demon-nim, your arm is strange!”
“Ah… it seems little time remains.”
As the lava-like light faded, one of the demon’s arms began to crumble. Unlike the startled Yoanna, he wiped her tears with his remaining hand as though it were nothing.
Warmth calmed her. Then he spoke.
“Yoanna, this world is fouled by far too many sins. You are likely only one tragedy among countless others.”
“……”
She wanted to deny it. She wanted to scream until her throat tore that she was the most suffering person in the world. She could not. She had already sensed that the moments left to speak with the demon—no, with this being—were nearly gone.
As if proud of her, he stroked her head and continued.
“Yet compared to the many who will end only in tragedy, you have seized a special chance.”
“What… do you want from me?”
She was ready to give anything. Body, mind, even soul if he asked. From the moment she received the warmth of heart she thought she would never feel again, she had decided so.
But what he wanted was not that.
Whoosh.
“Take this.”
“This is…?”
A flame shaped like a flower bud bloomed upon his last remaining hand. Yoanna reached out without thinking and stared, entranced, at the bud that settled into her palm.
It was beautiful, warm… and frightening.
“I will share a portion of my power with you. It is no great force, yet it will be of great help in the days ahead.”
“Like Albert… am I supposed to serve you?”
Even in the twisted world she had been forced to learn, Yoanna understood the relationship between god and believer well.
Yet—
“There is no need to serve me.”
“Pardon?”
He denied that most natural thing and pressed the flower bud into her chest. Like a seed planted in earth, the bud vanished into her body.
Whoosh!
Rooted in body and soul, the bud blossomed fully and spread its power. Vitality returned to a body ruined by long abuse; twisted muscles and bones realigned into healthier forms.
Above all—
It’s warm.
A flower bloomed in her empty heart. A fullness she had never known painted a smile across her face. Realizing all of this was thanks to him, she lifted her head—
“Ah…!”
“What I want from you is…”
She saw him turning to stone. Still in the posture of stroking her hair, he spoke.
“Reduce the sins of this world… Then we shall meet again…”
“Demon-nim? Demon-nim!!!”
His voice came no more. He had become stone exactly as he was, hand still resting on her head.
Tears fell without her noticing. Yoanna roughly wiped them away.
We shall meet again…
The Demon—no, her God—had clearly said so. For the day they would meet again, Yoanna wiped her tears and rose to her feet.
At that moment the last remaining sinner, who had been watching for a chance, tried to flee the temple—
Clatter-clatter-clatter!!
“Ghk! Gahk!?”
Crimson chains shot from Yoanna’s fingertips and seized the sinner by the throat. When she yanked the chain, the body floated up and flew to land at her feet.
Yoanna looked down at her and spoke.
“You’re the famous courtesan from the city, aren’t you?”
“Eek!? Y-yes! That’s right! Please don’t kill me! I-I’ll donate and live a good life from now on…!”
The gaze Yoanna fixed on the courtesan was far from kind. She wanted to kill every last one who had served Albert…
But I’m still young. At the very least I need a guardian until I can stand on my own.
Fulfilling the duty her God had given her would still take time.
“Your name?”
“Me-Messalina.”
“All right, Messela. From now on you are my guardian. Understood?”
“It’s Messalina, not Messela…”
“What was that?”
She flinched. Meeting Yoanna’s eyes, Messalina trembled with fear. Those were not a child’s eyes. Deeper and darker than Albert’s… and burning with hotter desire.
Faced with that desire, Messalina’s lips curled upward of their own accord and she wet herself. Resistance was impossible. The moment she resisted she would suffer a fate worse than the massacre just now.
Messalina—no, Messela—was certain.
“He-hehehe! I’m Messela!”
“Good girl.”
This was a being more dreadful than any demon.
Dantalion stared sulkily at the shattered mirror. Calling the expression “sulky” was odd given his lack of a face, but he was in a foul mood either way.
Sitri spoke to him.
“You should have finished a little faster. That was an otherworld mirror we barely managed to get from Mammon Corp.”
“Was this really the one linked to the best passage? It broke far too easily.”
“That’s because Your Honor the Chief Justice poured power into it like water!”
Sitri grumbled as she cleared the broken mirror with magic. She had never expected the passage she personally borrowed after meeting the president of Mammon Corp—someone she never wanted to see—to be wasted so pointlessly.
Once the debris was gone she held out a can of coffee and asked,
“So, did you achieve your goal? You said you were going to cosplay as an angel or something.”
“I’m not entirely sure what ‘cosplay’ means… but yes, I believe I succeeded.”
Dantalion cracked open the can and nodded. The connection had worsened at the end and his words had cut off a little, yet the important part should have gotten through.
Besides, reducing sin was hardly difficult work, was it?
What is needed to reduce sin is morality, compassion, charity… such good influence is the path that lessens sin.
And the girl he had entrusted with that role was clearly a good child. Dantalion trusted the eyes that had judged hundreds of millions of sinners.
Yoanna would surely grow up to be a good child!