13
Chapter 13
The number of visitors the day before the execution was like a swarm of ants. News that the Saint had become a death row prisoner had spread across the entire continent. They were all people who had received grace from her and wanted to do something for her before she died.
Swarming-.
"Saint! I-I'm Bilton! You treated my leg in the small mountain range of the Corinth region...!"
"These are handwritten letters from the children of the Wilhelm Orphanage. It might be too much to ask you to read every single one, but please accept them for the sake of the children's earnest devotion."
Of course, there was a limit to Tartarus's capacity, and since Tartarus itself was inaccessible to most humans, not everyone could enter.
Early in the morning, the 'strong' came for visits. For example, the 'White Knights Corps' of the Holy Nation.
"Saint, it was an honor to serve you. There will never be another Saint like you, neither in the past nor the future. We will remember you forever."
Or the Elf Queen, the Divine Archer 'Elaine Astheria', who bowed to the Saint and sobbed with all her heart.
"Ma-Maria...! I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...! If only I had been a little stronger, you wouldn't have ended up like this...! *Sob*...!"
It was quite amusing to see that noble and arrogant Elf Queen, who supposedly didn't even cry when she was born as a member of the Hero Party, sobbing for the first time in her life.
"Please, everyone, stand up. Why would such noble people kneel before a lowly death row prisoner like me?"
The Saint never lost her pure smile, no matter who she greeted. To the point where I wondered if her facial muscles would become frozen like mine.
"There is only one thing I can teach you. Even when harsh storms and trials come your way, do not lose love. Love is the power of the omnipotent and omniscient God."
Just as the commotion of the visits seemed to be dying down... the 'real' crowd arrived in the afternoon.
Everyone from young children who couldn't read to elderly folks flocked to the Babel Tower. Quite a few had crossed the continent overnight just to visit the Saint.
However, ordinary humans couldn't even set foot in Tartarus, so while both the Saint and the visitors were anxious and fidgeting...
Clink-.
"Saint, please come out."
Kelth, once a White Knight of the Holy Nation and now the jailer of Tartarus, came up with a plan.
He took the Saint out of Tartarus and brought her to the visiting room. It was a clear abuse of power that far exceeded a jailer's rights, but surprisingly, he said it was an order from the warden, Hades, who was far above him in rank.
Just what kind of being is the Saint? What kind of life did she lead for even the god who governs death to show such respect and honor? I'm truly curious.
Of course, I couldn't follow her, so I had to endure the lonely time by myself.
It stung a bit that the end of my life was as a lonely outcast, but I've always been alone anyway. I don't want to dwell on pathetic regrets now.
Creak-.
Clink-.
After a long time, I heard the sound of the iron door opening.
It's one of three things. Either Kelth came in, the Saint returned, or...
"Thank you for bringing me here, Kelth."
"I was only doing my duty."
"...Kelth is always so diligent. It's good to see."
"Thank you."
Or they both came in together.
When I turned my head, I saw the Saint with a haggard complexion, and Kelth carefully supporting her.
Tired from yawning through a boring day, I spoke up welcomingly.
"Yo, Saint. How did the visits go?"
It was Kelth's voice that answered.
"Joker, please take good care of the Saint."
"What's up? Did something happen outside? You don't look so good."
"...I'm counting on you."
After saying that, Kelth personally entered Tartarus, sat the Saint down beside me, and walked away with steady steps.
His steps looked somewhat desolate, so I made an effort not to look away.
Clink-.
Soon, with a series of door sounds, Kelth's back completely disappeared from view. Only then did I turn to the Saint beside me.
"Obviously, you overdid it."
"Anyway... by tomorrow, isn't this lifespan useless...?"
"You were talking about love before. I guess you're not even trying to sugarcoat it now."
A pale face with no trace of color, a body trembling slightly.
She was already frail because she lacked lifespan, and it seems she gave away more of it while sharing that love thing again.
Whoosh— Thump.
The Saint, who was barely sitting, collapsed forward just like last time. Fortunately, she collapsed on top of me. I avoided the risk of my face burning on the hot ground.
"Heh."
I was suddenly surprised. By myself, unconsciously thinking it was 'fortunate' that the Saint was safe.
It was proof of how great the Saint's interpersonal skills were. Ah, in this case, not interpersonal, but inter-demon, I guess.
"Saint."
"Yes...."
"I guess you have enough energy to open your mouth."
The Saint breathed shallowly, her face resting on my chest. She looked quite exhausted.
The sound of her hurried breathing hit my ear. An inexplicable tickle wrapped around my heart.
I've never felt this way before.
"What happened in the visiting room?"
"I met... many people...."
"Like who?"
"Nuns from our church came... elder Dwarves came... and mages from the Tower of Magic came."
After the war ended, the nuns were reduced to sex slaves for monsters. Dwarves became tunnel miner slaves for the Demon Army, and mages were destined to become experimental subjects for Black Mages.
Every single one of them was lacking something, like a loose screw. Just like the Saint, who has no eyes.
"Birds of a feather flock together."
"...."
"Anything else? Did anyone come to tease you, like the Hero or Lilith?"
"They did."
"I can imagine. Probably some troublemaking devils."
Because even if the Saint was collapsed on me, her face buried in my chest and the crown of her head rubbing against my chin, I was in a position where I couldn't move a muscle.
Clatter-.
"Cough."
Except for when I'm enduring the pain of these damn seizures.
Ha, to think that the only thing moving independently of others is still not under my control... what a pathetic state I'm in.
...No, actually, even these seizures were Merlin Gregory's intention. For all intents and purposes, I'm nothing more than a vegetable demon.
"Lord Joker."
"What."
"Were you satisfied with your life, Lord Joker?"
The Saint asks out of the blue, gasping for air as if she's about to expire.
"Why ask that all of a sudden?"
"I just wondered. Is that not allowed?"
"Starting to have regrets now that death is knocking?"
"...Honestly, a little. I thought I should accept death without regret as an Apostle of The Lord, but I suppose I'm only human after all."
"What do you regret?"
"I regret that I'm leaving so soon."
"Saint, how old did you say you were this year?"
"I turned twenty-eight."
"That makes you about the same age as my great-great-great-great-grandchild."
My life has lasted longer than most nations... still, I'm considered young among demons. There are true old fogies like the 'King' of the Southern Demon Realm who have lived for over a million years.
"Lord Joker."
"What now."
"Have you ever been in love?"
What's with this naive question?
"Over a hundred times. Do you have any idea how many demon females moaned at my legendary technique?"
"Love is not merely about physical pleasure."
"Then what kind of love are you talking about?"
"I thought I spent my whole life giving love... but lying here and looking back, I realize there was no love in my life."
"...?"
"Isn't it tragic? That a Saint, who must spread love more faithfully than anyone, has actually never loved once herself."
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
"I speak not of love as Saint Maria, but of love as Maria the girl. The emotion commonly referred to as lust or romantic desire."
I don't know how much lifespan she had drained, but the Saint couldn't even lift a finger, only her lips fluttering.
I instinctively wanted to see her face, but all that was granted to my vision was the back of her head, covered by her nun's habit.
"You're sounding pathetic."
"Do I?"
"A 'girl' at twenty-eight? Please. People call women like you old maids."
"You are the first person to ever call me an old maid."
Pfft, the Saint chuckled softly. That laughter, drifting like a gentle breeze, somehow put my mind at ease.
"Lord Joker."
"What now?"
"Have you ever truly loved someone?"
"No, never. I don't trust anyone."
"I think I have. I just realized it."
"Really?"
"Yes."
The Saint struggled to lift her head. Her face, white as snow and smeared with grime, stared intently at me.
"However, I fear it is far too late."
"...."
Eyes wrapped in a bandage decorated with dried scabs of blood.
A dainty, upturned nose.
Small, cracked lips devoid of any vitality.
Skin that had lost its luster since her visit to the room this afternoon.
Simply a faded face.
"Lord Joker."
"Why do you keep calling me?"
"Am I... pretty?"
"...."
The Saint gently bit her lower lip in anticipation.
How absurd, wanting to ask such a thing at twenty-eight.
How cute.
"No, you're not."
"Is that so?"
"Why ask something so obvious?"
Even though I gave an answer that was likely the opposite of what she hoped for, the Saint wasn't offended at all. Instead, a faint smile played on her lips.
"Does hearing that you're ugly make you feel good?"
"You are truly skilled at lying, Lord Joker."
"What?"
"If I hadn't spent the past week stuck to you, I might have fallen for your acting just now."
"Are you saying I just lied?"
Even though I asked a bit sharply, the Saint's calm and peaceful expression didn't change. It was a smile like a solidly built fortress.
"Lord Joker, do you know something?"
"What now?"
"You are the first creature to ever tell me that I am not beautiful."
"Is that so?"
"Elves, Dwarves, and even Dragons—anyone who has seen me would usually shower me with compliments about my appearance. In the past, the Goddess of Beauty even gave me the overwhelming praise and said I had 'beauty unmatched in the mortal world.'"
"Their eyes must have been broken."
"Ahaha."
A clear laugh bloomed between us.
I truly wondered how she could produce such a refreshing laugh with a voice that had gone completely hoarse.
"Lord Joker."
"What now."
"May I commit a small impudence?"
As she spoke, the Saint slowly began to lean her upper body toward my face.
Naturally, her face drew closer and closer to mine.
I wasn't ignorant of the meaning behind this.
"...Do whatever you want."
Leaning in toward me, the Saint awkwardly pursed her lips.
That awkwardness, and that innocence.
To my eyes, having played with countless succubi, she appeared more alluring than any female I'd ever known.
It was truly a strange thing.
She didn't exude sex appeal, nor was she wearing red lipstick.
Her lips were plain and faded.
She was a woman who stood at the opposite pole from a demon like me.
She didn't look like someone who would stir an instinctive urge of lust.
Swoosh-.
Gulp-.
I had no idea why a hideous desire to roughly ravage those lips was writhing deep within my heart.
As my thoughts continued, the Saint grew even closer. The distance between us shrank to about one centimeter. A faint breath settled upon my lips.
Flop-.
At that moment, the Saint collapsed powerlessly. Right in front of my head, which I had struggled to keep upright, her lips unintendedly shared a kiss with my neck instead of my mouth.
"What was that? How anticlimactic."
"Ahaha...."
"Did you set the mood just for this?"
"My apologies. My body... will not move as I wish...."
The Saint's breathing became a bit more labored. I grew slightly worried that she might die before even stepping onto the guillotine.
With her forehead pressed beneath my chin, the Saint closed her eyes. A heavy darkness embraced us.
Through that dim dusk, I saw the Saint's back. Her back, as she sobbed sorrowfully.
"Since I cannot break the virtue of purity, I wanted to commit at least a light transgression like a kiss...."
"Quite a modest transgression."
"I suppose... even that was not permitted for me as an Apostle of God...."
"How pathetic."
Every living being has desires. Lowly desires hidden at the bottom of the heart.
I've never seen anyone without them. Even the angels, creations of the gods, harbored desires deep inside that they were ashamed to reveal.
"The Saint seems like someone who lacks such filthy desires."
"I am also human.... How could I not have desires...."
"Lust, pleasure, debauchery, sloth, greed... everyone wants those things, but I can't tell which one you're harboring. Want to pick one? Which desire are you closest to?"
"If I had to pick, it would be pleasure...."
Pleasure?
The Saint I know?
"Just now, did I not try to kiss you presumptuously.... That was the most wretched desire of my life...."
"...."
Damn, and here I thought she was saying something else. Figures.
"Saint, stuff like that isn't called filthy. It's called cute, you naive woman."
"Is that so...? Haha...."
"Your voice is trailing off. Tomorrow is the execution, and you're falling asleep now?"
"It is a wretched desire for sleep... I am such a slothful person...."
With those words, the Saint lost consciousness. I didn't bother waking her up, as she seemed exhausted. Her condition was simply too poor.
The Saint murmured in her sleep.
"Mother...."
Within those half-conscious murmurs lay a sincere emotion that felt out of place.
"I miss you...."
The body of the Saint, collapsed on top of me, trembled slightly.
It was an infinitely small and fragile body. With her knees bent and her frame thinned, she fit completely within my embrace.
The noble, exalted, and great Saint of the Sun, the leader of tens of thousands of saints, the only hope of the continent.......
To think such a strong woman was actually just a girl... an old maid longing for a simple, fresh love.
Fate is truly cruel. At the end of that cruel fate, Saint Maria is walking through a dream by my side.
Waiting endlessly for the execution scheduled for tomorrow.
"......."
"Hoooom... phi-ooo...."
How beautiful is the sight of one who knows when they will die and proceeds calmly.
With a youthful lingering regret like a drop of dew.
With a handful of lonely solitude.
And an armful of heartbreaking sorrow.
All those emotions blended together, making me feel a complex array of feelings. Even though the subject, the Saint, was wandering through her dreams in total peace.
*****
I am afraid.
I am terrified of the future that arrives in less than twenty-four hours.
I am afraid because this time, which feels like an eternity, feels like an irresistible, oppressive, and massive current.
Oh Lord.
I have not yet fully shared the grace I received from You.
Having received such overwhelming love, I wanted to share at least half of it.
But why, oh why, do You...
Why do You intend to take back Your Apostle, who has not even completed her noble mission?
Oh Lord.
For what purpose have I lived?
For what purpose did I fight against the grand Demon Army that covered heaven and earth?
And for what purpose was I destined to perish so vainly as the dew atop the guillotine?
I am afraid.
Of what kind of world I will encounter after the process of death.
Whether eternal extinction and rest will be granted, or if I will go to a heaven where angels blow fanfares and the Holy Spirit blesses me.
Whether I can enjoy the thrill of reuniting with my mother and father, or if I will stand upon a scorching judgment seat awaiting punishment.
You, who do not give even a single hint, are truly a cold-hearted Master.
....
Oh Lord.
Please, grant Your most holy words to this humble servant.
What kind of world does my death bring forth?
Why is my death something that is denied even the chance to be refused?
Am I Maria?
Or am I Your faithful and devoted Apostle, the Saint?
Please answer me.
What on earth are You, that You have made this pitiful world such a place?
What on earth are You, that You led a foolish thing like me to this point?
By what right do You give such an ending to one as fearful as I?
....
Are You truly a merciful being?
If You are so merciful, why do You withhold that overflowing mercy from me alone?
I am a blind, foolish, and stubborn sheep. I am an incompetent sheep in need of Your help.
To such a creature as I, do You not allow even a single shred of mercy?
Are You truly an omniscient and omnipotent being?
If You are so powerful, why do You just stand by and watch that atrocious Demon King act so arrogant?
If You are so omniscient, why have You abandoned this world like a discarded child?
Just how vast a future are You painting in Your majestic mind?
Just how great a future do You intend to achieve....
I, this frail mortal who cannot dare to fathom Your sublime thoughts...
Am simply too afraid.
....
Even as I plead, You ultimately do not grant a revelation.
According to Your teachings, I lived my life shunning the seven evils and looking toward the seven virtues.
Once tonight passes, my long and insignificant life will face its vain end.
Right now, by my side, there is only one man who pushed both me and the continent into such a state.
He is a Great Demon who submerged half the world in the fires of vice, but contrary to the rampant rumors, he possesses a truly innocent heart.
The world did not know the merciful nature of this man, who showed me gracious consideration even while enduring pain as if his whole body were being torn apart in the hellish Tartarus.
I was betrayed by my comrades. I could not save my dying brothers-in-arms. I felt so pathetic for my own weakness that I shuddered with intense guilt.
However, the man beside me is calmly accepting the future even in the face of the coming apocalypse. I am struggling to hide my feelings, trying my best not to be a burden to him.
Oh Lord. Perhaps You were trying to give me a lesson.
That even in the worst situation, even within a body that will soon die and perish, love can bloom. Perhaps You wanted to convey to a dull person like me the great truth that remains immutable throughout the endless eons.
The fact that I felt this from a demon who had only known the emotion of love for seven days and nights, a feeling I had never harbored once in my life, seems to prove it.
I am falling asleep while leaning on his chest. Because I want to cast off even a small bit of vain thought, and because I want to have at least one happy dream on the final night of my life. That is all.
I enjoyed helping others. However, I failed to sufficiently achieve even that meager act of kindness.
I have so much lingering regret that my heart continuously aches as I think of the lonely souls who will remain in this pitiful world.
I want to believe that You have an intention. I want to soothe and comfort my heart in that way, to cast off the anxieties and the wavering heart on the road to tomorrow.
But the Demon King and the Demon Army, who have become so massive and powerful... make my faith blur like muddied water.
What on earth does my death mean?
Who are You, by what right do You... me...
....
.......
I shall die.
Embracing this current fear with a thick breast.
Turning blasphemous doubt into faithful belief.
Taking the pitiful demon beside me as my reliable companion.
Willingly, I shall die.
As You willed, I shall die.
Placing my insignificant head beneath the razor-sharp blade.
The red flower bud of blood that will bloom in full.
Under a sky that is slowly fading into twilight.
I shall scatter like a torrential downpour of rain.
According to Your great, omniscient, and omnipotent will.
Oh Lord-.