10
Chapter 10
"Do not lean toward gluttony, drunkenness, lewdness, indulgence, strife, or envy, but clothe yourself in the Lord. Do not serve the flesh for the sake of lust."
The Saint is offering a devout prayer again today. I doubt the Sun God will even listen, so why is she so earnest?
She is truly an incomprehensible woman. A foolish woman.
"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?"
Unless Kelth opens the door for a visitation or meal service, Tartarus is a place where only a dim darkness exists, day or night.
That was how it was until exactly six days ago.
Since the Saint arrived as a newcomer, a faint light aura has always been softly glowing within Tartarus.
This is because the divine radiance of the sun enveloping the Saint's body seeps through her nun's habit. It is as if she herself were a little sun.
It is the same now. Even as she prays, the Saint is emitting light.
"With all my heart, with all my soul, with all my strength, and with all my mind, I love the Lord-."
When I first heard those prayers, it was so repulsive that I felt the urge to rip my own ears off, but these days, it's not quite like that. I seem to have adapted to this eccentric Saint.
...Is this really okay for a demon? I'm starting to have doubts that shake the very foundation of my existence.
"Please, do not abandon this pitiful and profane world. Even if it means taking my humble life to appease Your anger, O Lord."
Wow, look at that eloquence.
I can say with certainty that none of the priests I've killed were ever that devout.
People show their true colors right before they die. The rigid and noble Holy Knights, the materialistic and filthy priests, the cowardly nuns who begged me to kill the children instead of them... all of them looked pathetic in their final moments.
But I don't think the Saint will be like that. My intuition tells me so.
Even at the execution ceremony in just two days... she'll probably be smiling brightly with her neck on the guillotine. If she's the Saint I know.
"Saint."
"Yes, Joker."
Even though she learned my identity through the Hero's visitation, the Saint's attitude toward me remained unchanged. Warm and merciful. Only the title had changed.
"Aren't you afraid of death?"
"The Lord is simply taking back the grace He bestowed upon me; should I not welcome it with a joyful heart?"
"You're happy about dying? Then why not just kill yourself? Why have you stayed alive until now?"
"Because I must fulfill the duty the God gave me before I go. Though I couldn't finish it completely, the Lord is calling, so it is only right that I answer."
As expected, the Saint is a strange human. She is different from other humans... or rather, other 'beings.'
"Are you really not afraid? Can you swear to the Sun God that you don't feel that way even in the slightest?"
Feeling a bit irritated by her composure, I pressed her relentlessly.
I don't know why I'm doing this. Whether the Saint is good or not, whether she trembles before death or not, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.
"To be honest, it would be a lie to say I'm not afraid at all."
"What, you were lying?"
"But if my death could carry the sins of the world, and if that allowed the current world to be forgiven by the Lord..."
The Saint's face was filled with pure hope. Her voice held nothing but absolute sincerity.
"I can wait for the coming day with a truly joyful heart."
"Ha, I can't relate to that at all, so I've got nothing to say."
Suddenly, I became curious about the Saint.
I wondered what kind of environment she grew up in to have such a bright and hopeful heart. Had she been raised under such care that not a single speck of misfortune could be found?
I was a little curious.
Clatter-.
"...Ow."
At the sound of the iron chains, I had to close my mouth, swallowing nothing but bitter pain once again.
*****
I was the Demon King's henchman.
A very loyal henchman.
So loyal, in fact, that I only followed one out of every three orders he gave, and I never failed to skip every banquet he invited me to. Oh, and aside from official settings, I've never once used honorifics with the Demon King.
Truly, am I not as loyal as a dog?
Some might say I'm mindless for acting this way, but that's not it.
My loyal behavior was only possible because the Demon King was my friend. A true childhood friend.
The Demon King and I had known each other since we were about ten. He was a direct descendant of the Demon King family, the 1st Rank of the Demon Realm, and I was a descendant of the Northern Family, one of the 4 Great Demon Families.
Of course, no matter how much time we spent together, I didn't trust the Demon King one bit. I don't trust anyone to begin with. Not even a friend of several hundred years.
There's a reason people talk about crossing the river and burning the bridge.
That's why I kept about three of the Demon King's weaknesses on hand. I even carved a Cursed Imprint into his body, though the Demon King himself doesn't know it.
The problem was that I was dragged in here before I could even activate that imprint.
It was just another ordinary day. I was eating breakfast while suffering from seizures caused by Merlin Gregory's magic. That morning, the meal was rye bread.
However, in the middle of my peaceful meal, the Demon Realm Police suddenly stormed in. The Demon Police tried to arrest me on the spot, claiming I had committed a crime of disrespect.
Beating them down would have been easier than breathing, but I allowed myself to be caught. I had a clear conscience, and I knew I could overpower them whenever I wanted.
I was also curious about which idiot had dared to frame me, the Northern Grand Duke Joker.
I was immediately escorted to the courtroom, and the trial began without a moment's delay.
To my surprise, the judge was my old friend, the Demon King. The accuser was also the Demon King. The defense attorney was also the Demon King. The prosecutor, too, was the Demon King.
After a brief moment of being stunned, I had to quickly snap out of it as the trial proceeded with absurd speed. But even then, there was nothing I could do.
It felt as if someone were intentionally targeting me.
I only realized it by the time the trial ended, but that someone was the Demon King.
[I sentence Northern Grand Duke Joker Oscar Lucifer to 111 days of Tartarus imprisonment and guillotine execution.]
The trial ended exactly 9 minutes and 37 seconds after it began. Naturally, I protested, and the Demon King tried to crush me with sheer force.
I unleashed my full power and clashed with the Demon King. The courtroom was engulfed in pure demonic energy, and a massive, majestic explosion, the likes of which no one had ever caused before, overwhelmed us. In the end, only the Demon King remained standing.
Exactly 1 hour and 26 minutes after the trial, I was escorted to the Babel Tower, the World's Worst Great Prison. I went there with a body completely shattered from fighting the Demon King for 1 hour and 25 minutes.
Eventually, I was imprisoned in Tartarus.
Bound by iron chains made of adamantium—a metal that cannot be broken by a body that had no hope of recovery.
It was an absurd situation, but there was no one to argue with. There was nowhere to vent my grievances.
The world isn't that forgiving. Even the Second-in-Command of the Demon Army, who had been riding high, could fall into the abyss upon the betrayal of the First-in-Command.
When the great Demon King's sovereign command ignores all procedure, who would dare say a word? In the Demon Realm where strength is everything, the Demon King—who even surpassed the Demon God—was an absolute power, and more.
I still don't know why the Demon King did this to me. It wasn't that we were on bad terms, nor was I in his way.
To dismiss it as mere lust for power, the Demon King's personality as I know him holds me back. He is only obsessed with dueling those stronger than himself. Having observed him longer than anyone, I can say this with certainty.
"Saint, do you have any idea? Why the Demon King locked me up here?"
"...."
"Saint? Why aren't you answering? Are you asleep?"
"...That is."
Only after I asked did the Saint finally open her tightly sealed lips. It was a stark contrast to her usual self, where she would diligently answer any silly question I asked.
"I know the answer, but I cannot tell you."
"What?"
"Please understand."
"Heh, just say you don't know. You're just pretending to know something to look important."
"Haha."
I spoke bluntly, but I knew. I knew the Saint wasn't the type of person to say something meaningless.
A reason she can't tell me... Is there something between the Saint and the Demon King that I don't know about?
Since the Saint, the only related person, is keeping her mouth shut, there's no way for me to find out.
Clink-.
While I was mischievously applying pressure to the back of her head resting on her thigh, I heard the sound of the iron door opening.
It's not meal service time, so it must be another visitation. Honestly, the Saint has so many connections. Even in Tartarus, where a criminal couldn't last a second, there's not a single day without someone visiting her.
Meanwhile, not a single person has visited me in 110 days-.
"Visitation."
Just as I thought, the door opened for a visit.
Wait, why is Kelth speaking so informally? Kelth is not the kind of person who would ever use such language with the Saint.
"Joker, you have a visitor. Just stay where you are."
...Hm?
"What, what?"
"There is no right of refusal. Just accept it quietly."
"A visitor? For me? Finally?"
"Yes, you finally have a visitor. So welcome them gladly. And don't say anything stupid, unless you want your head to disappear."
Hold on, who on earth is this first visitor that Kelth's talking about heads disappearing?
Damn, typical demon. My social circle in life has been absolutely wretched.
The Saint's visitors—Lilith, the Hero—were the polar opposite of me, though that might be irrelevant. Still.
"Congratulations, Joker."
"For what?"
"It's your first visitation. The one you've been longing for."
"Ahem! Who said I was longing for anything!"
"Weren't you envious every time you heard Sir Kelth came to visit me? I certainly felt that vibe."
The Saint tilted her head, her eyes covered in bandages. Ah, she caught me.
Fine, honestly, I'm excited. Especially since it's my first visitor. Baal, the devil who was most loyal to me? Dantalion, who led thirty-six devil legions? I don't care who it is.
With my heart pounding, I stared longingly at the door where the visitor would enter.
Screeech-.
Step, step-.
The long-awaited visitor entered, and the figure that filled my vision was a man I believed would never come.
A long, sharp black coat, a tall and slender body, and pitch-black sunglasses. Red horns adorned his long hair, with red demonic energy swirling around them.
There are too many titles to describe him to list them all, but let me pick a few.
The legendary demon who conquered seven nations and three tribes of the continent through sheer force that transcended the laws.
The noble demon who surpassed the Demon God, the progenitor of demons, and placed seventy-two Great Demons beneath his feet.
The sky and king of all demonic power, the great demon born with the destiny to plunge the world into a pit of evil.
The Demon King, Kanos.
The fifth visitor of Tartarus, and the first visitor for me, had arrived.