I Asked You a Question
I asked you a question, didn't I?
Edgar—member of the laboratory and priest of the cathedral—was conducting the liturgy.
"You never know where a demon might be hiding, brothers! They are always cunning enough to deceive mankind, so the utmost vigilance is required!"
Those packing the cathedral interior nodded along to Edgar's sermon.
"Especially now that Baron Scalen… no, Mordin has been exposed as one of the Evil Book Society and received the Goddess's judgment! We must be all the more wary of demons!"
Baron Scalen had been an apostle of the Evil Book Society; Edgar was merely a believer. But once a man was dead and discarded, there was no longer any reason to show him courtesy. You simply used him for everything he was still worth.
"I pray that the Goddess's protection may rest upon you all. Let us pray together!"
Edgar clasped his hands and shut his eyes; many followed suit.
"O Goddess Ella, our Lord…"
The prayer continued for some time, and various rites followed. It was Baron Scalen's influence that had allowed Edgar to be ordained as a priest in the first place, and while serving as the cathedral's priest he had pushed his experiments forward in the basement beneath the building.
For the past five years, not a single soul has caught on.
From time to time the Holy Empire had poked around looking for missing persons, but the lab had been hidden well—and Baron Scalen's influence had smoothed the rest over.
Even when Baron Scalen was exposed as Evil Book Society and the people of the Holy Empire came here, they never suspected a thing.
So from now on, he could afford to be bolder. Until recently he had mostly experimented on monsters; from this point forward he intended to collect humans themselves for the work.
"Come, come! Everyone step forward! These brooches will protect you from demons!"
When the liturgy was finished, Edgar began distributing white brooches to the people.
"Thank you, Father Edgar."
"Haha. As fellow servants of the Goddess, we ought to help one another, shouldn't we?"
Edgar's eyes curved in a smile, but his thoughts were something else entirely.
Idiots.
These were nothing more than ordinary brooches—a means of kidnapping people from now on while keeping himself clear of suspicion.
If I only abduct those who aren't wearing a brooch from here on, they'll truly believe it's the work of demons.
Of course the Holy Empire would wonder at first why he had suddenly started handing them out. But after several fruitless searches, no one would be able to press him hard.
Agitation is simple. Seize power and reputation, spout something plausible, and everyone else will believe it's the truth.
Look at them—smiling as they left the cathedral with brooches pinned to their chests. The trust that came with the rank of priest paralyzed their critical faculties.
"Ah… that appears to be the last of them. Unfortunately, these are all the brooches I prepared for today."
Edgar held out a box whose bottom was already visible. Roughly fifty a day. He had to regulate the quantity; if every resident in the area wore one, the scheme would fall apart.
"Come again tomorrow! Tomorrow, praise the Goddess's glory with me once more, and take a brooch that will protect you from demons!"
People expressed their disappointment, but one by one they had no choice but to file out of the cathedral.
Time to start moving, then.
He had begun the day before, so roughly a hundred people already wore brooches. He would select experimental subjects from everyone else and abduct them.
Adolescents are ideal, really.
Their bodies were not yet fully formed, so they adapted to demonic energy more readily than adults. The failure rate was still high—but that simply meant abducting more. One success out of a hundred was a successful experiment.
Hm?
Then he noticed a man still sitting in the emptied cathedral.
Can't let go of the brooch, is that it?
Edgar sighed and approached. The man was slumped so far forward in his seat that only the back of his head and his back were visible.
"Brother? I understand your disappointment, but please head home for today. Tomorrow is another day for us."
For a while the man gave no answer. Then, abruptly, he spoke.
"Three hours."
"Pardon?"
"That is how long I spent listening to your garbage and holding down the urge to kill you."
He slowly lifted his head. The whites of his eyes were shot through with red veins, bloodshot—like the face of a man who had endured severe torture.
"The only humans left in this place are you and me. So tell me—is there any further reason for me to keep you alive?"
"What are you…"
Edgar's words trailed off. Only then could he take in the man's appearance: black clerical robes, and a sword sheath gripped in one hand.
"An Inquisitor…?"
There were no others who walked around armed while wearing priestly vestments.
The Inquisitor asked again.
"So. Your answer?"
While the bastard stood there dumbfounded, Bella came in from outside.
"Inquisitor, the sun is going down. There is no one left in the vicinity."
"Well done. Stand by for a moment."
"Yes."
Bella withdrew and took up her pen and notebook. I turned my attention back to the man.
"Hey. I asked you a question, didn't I? You had plenty to say to the faithful a moment ago—suddenly your tongue won't work?"
He swallowed dryly and forced a smile.
"Haha… Inquisitor, why are you suddenly doing this to me?"
"You already know that better than I do."
I continued with superhuman patience. My survey of the place was not finished yet.
"From what I can tell, those brooches don't carry any particular power. Why hand them out?"
"Because a demon I witnessed disliked white brooches. It mistakes them for vessels of holy power."
So he had prepared an excuse of that caliber. A fairly plausible bit of nonsense—but it would not work on me.
"Heh…"
I let out a low laugh and pointed at him.
"No. It's so you can kidnap the ones who aren't wearing them and keep yourself clear of suspicion."
"……"
"After that, you planned to turn humans and monsters into demons in the laboratory under this cathedral."
The corners of his eyes twitched faintly.
The reason I had not simply cut his throat at once was partly to let the parishioners leave—but the greater reason was to find their laboratory.
I can't move rashly and risk losing the most important thing.
In truth, I was impressed with my own patience. At this rate, I was no longer Wrath of the Seven Deadly Sins—I was Patience of the Seven Great Goods.
Today, at least, there is nothing lacking.
I nodded and rose from my seat. Through Tailwind, I had finished mapping the laboratory's layout as well. The entrance had been sealed, so it had taken time.
"Do you happen to know a creature called Groll? A very useful fellow—he found my money for me and even gave me power."
"……"
"So I fed him a snack, and he tried to bite me. I don't care for ungrateful bastards, so I had no choice but to kill him."
The man who had been frozen in place took a step back.
"…What are you?"
I did not answer. I fixed my eyes on his shoulder. A thin red line appeared there, then grew thicker by the moment.
Puhwaaak!
A human arm went flying. My sword was already free of its sheath.
"Gyaaaaah!"
He screamed. It felt like throwing water onto boiling lava—gone in an instant, evaporated.
"If I take your head, will this rage settle? Probably not. But I can't leave you as you are, so…"
I drove the sword into the floor and closed on him bare-handed.
"For now, beating you to death seems best."
"W-wait—!"
He thrust out his remaining hand, but my fist was already swinging into his face.
Kwaaang!
A crisp impact, and his body went sailing through the air. He tumbled several times across the floor and sprawled there, one side of his face crushed in.
"W-wait! I'll tell you where the laboratory is!"
"No need."
I seized him by the collar and drove my fist down.
Puk! Puk! Puk!
With every blow his nose broke, his cheekbone caved, blood sprayed. By the time I came back to myself, his face was no longer recognizable.
I discarded his collar like trash and moved on, drawing my sword with a blood-slicked fist.
"Inquisitor, I'll keep watch so no one else gets in!"
Someone spoke, but I did not answer. I walked to the small statue of the Goddess set in the cathedral and cut it several times with my sword. When I shoved the remaining stump aside, a door appeared in the floor. Originally some mechanism had probably been used to move the statue. Not my concern.
Creeeak—
I opened the door and descended the stairs that led to the basement. They were pitch-dark, and I found that very much to my liking.
After a short descent I faced a thick door at the bottom of the stairs. It seemed to require a key.
I altered my vocal cords and pounded on the door.
"It's me! Open up!"
The voice of the man I had just killed came from my mouth. If you listened to someone's voice long enough, you did not need to map the structure of their throat yourself.
Grrrk—
After a short wait, the door opened. Someone inside spoke.
"What? Why are you banging on the door all of a sudden?"
I slipped through the gap as it opened. The moment I stepped inside, the man within stared at me with eyes gone wide.
"Y-you, what—!"
His words never finished. The instant his figure came into view, I had already swung my sword. I did not stay to watch the rest; I simply walked on, and only afterward did the sound of something falling reach me from behind.
Thud, thud—
Only the quiet tread of my footsteps rolled down the dark corridor. There were barrels holding pieces of monster flesh—and, from time to time, human limbs. In several rooms, whole monsters floated inside green cylinders.
"Hmm. I don't recall inviting any guests."
Ahead of me, a middle-aged scarecrow of a man stepped into view.
"An Inquisitor, is it? How did you find this place?"
Demonic energy rolled off the stick-insect of a man. He had likely injected demonic energy into his own body—which meant he was the one in charge here. In truth, Tailwind had already told me as much.
"No. At this point, that hardly matters."
The stick-insect fixed his eyes on me.
"Leave if you value your life. I have no desire to erase the results of our research here in a fight either."
"……"
"In exchange, I will abandon this place within half a day. I would call that reasonable, wouldn't you?"
At the stick-insect's nonsense, a laugh escaped me unbidden.
"And why exactly should I show a bastard like you any mercy?"
"What?"
I ignored his retort and briefly closed my eyes. A memory from my previous life had surfaced without warning.
"……"
When our house had been wiped out by Baron Scalen, only my younger brother's body had been missing. I had assumed he had burned somewhere in the fire. But two years later, when I faced the demon that had destroyed the Zarkan Empire, I realized that had been a mistake.
…Aren?
That demon had been none other than Aren—wearing the form of a demon. After the fall of our house, Aren must have been dragged here and remade. In the process of transformation he would have endured unspeakable pain, unable even to kill himself…
I didn't know it then, but the demon that rampaged through this village was probably Aren as well.
I had heard the villagers' testimony—that it had looked far too much like a human to be called a demon.
"Born human, die a demon."
That was a wretched end not only for clergy, but for ordinary people as well. The Evil Book Society had forced that filthy fate upon Aren.
My teeth ground together. My head flashed hot in an instant; every cell in my body felt ready to burst outward.
Does this rage come from the past?
Most of it, yes. But as I had learned when I obtained the sword of Joy, emotion born solely of past-life memory cannot raise my stage.
Then is this rage nothing but drowning in the memories of a previous life?
No. That was not it. Even if I had seen this place for the first time, I would have felt the same emotion. Only the scale would have differed a little.
Fwoosh—
The moment I released the feelings I had held down even briefly, the wind coiled around my blade began to transform into flame. It spread beyond control at once, until crimson fire sheathed the whole of the sword.
The wind of Joy twists into fire. A blade of pure destructive rage.
"You…"
I opened my eyes at the stick-insect's voice. He was still watching me warily.
"You, and every scrap of your research—burn here and be gone."
A seething voice leaked between my lips.
"That is the most rational choice."
The stick-insect twisted his mouth.
"Who decided that?"
I gripped the flame-wrapped sword in both hands and lowered my stance. If a stick-insect was in the way, burning the entire thicket it hid in was not a bad option either.
"I did."
Shwaaaaaaak!
I swung the sword with everything I had. Flames steeped in Wrath lit the darkness and poured out in every direction.
Fwoooooosh!
The firestorm swallowed, one after another, the barrels of monster and human remains, the research materials, and the stick-insect himself. Before long my vision was stained a seething red by the writhing flames.