19
Chapter 19
Rosary.
Cross.
Rosario.
This item, which signifies offering a spiritual bouquet of roses to the Holy Mother.
Until I met Saint Maria, it was something that had absolutely nothing to do with me.
Well, it did have something to do with me. In a rather unpleasant way.
Whenever I found someone holding a cross, I would track them down, test them, and then crush them. Those fools would desperately thrust their shining crosses at me and scream.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit! I shall purify this devil!"
They were pathetic. All they knew how to do was wag their tongues, relying on Holy Power.
Occasionally, there were some insignificant ones who actually managed to call upon the Holy Spirit, but even then, it was nothing. What could a mere Holy Spirit possibly do to someone who had been the Second-in-Command of the Demon Army? Unless they summoned an Archangel.
The point at which such rosaries began to attract my profound interest was after I encountered the Saint in Tartarus.
"I have a heavy duty to embrace the pitiful lambs who have been overlooked. The blackness of the rosary is a symbol of that intent."
"Are you talking about the trash in the back alleys?"
"I am speaking of those who are marginalized in the shadows where the light does not reach."
To the Saint, the rosary was a solemn and precious object, unlike those other fraudulent priests.
It was her guide, her God, and her Lord. The Saint cherished her rosary more than her own life.
Of course, all those priests are the same. They passionately spout that they would gladly sacrifice their humble lives for the Lord. The problem is that it's all just talk.
Out of all of them, I never saw a single one say that while a shotgun barrel was pressed against their head.
It's nothing special. Since life reveals its true nature when faced with death, they simply faced their naked inner selves thanks to me.
That is why the Saint is so intriguing.
Even until the moment the guillotine's blade fell without mercy and the cold steel entered her graceful neck.
She continued to preach a faithful love.
The image of the Saint praying while clutching her rosary, emitting a soft Light Aura in the dim darkness, remains vivid in my mind.
However, there is one thing I cannot wrap my head around.
Clink-.
"This is truly baffling."
Clink-.
"It's not like I had a habit of playing with crosses when I was a kid... Hah, really."
The question is, why did that sacred rosary come out of my young pocket?
No matter how much I blink, I am certain. This is the rosary the Saint used to carry.
A grime-covered, dingy black cross. I spent so much time staring at it in Tartarus that there is no way I could mistake it.
When was the last time I saw this rosary?
It was definitely....
"It is the treasure that has stayed with me my entire life."
"Treasure, my foot."
"Please accept it. It is my sincerity, my faith, and my love."
"How is something this filthy and grime-covered a treasure? Is this how people manage treasures these days?"
"If that is the case, then please make sure to clean it later, Lord Joker."
The day before my execution, the Saint handed it to me.
I asked her to place it in my clothes, and after that, I have no memory.
"...."
There is nothing to be found. At least, not in the current situation.
Clink-.
I held the rosary in my hand. I could feel its hard, sharp edges against my fingertips.
The Saint must have suspected that I would regress. I can tell by the final words she left me and by this black rosary.
And for some unknown reason, the black rosary she left for me traveled 500 years back in time to the past, accompanying me.
"Tsk."
I doubt there is anything special hidden within the rosary. It is simply a fairly hard and sharp cross.
"I've taken on a tedious chore."
I pulled out a clean handkerchief. It was one that had been lying around the room.
"She wants me to clean it? Dammit, who does she think I am, her servant?"
Grumbling with dissatisfaction, I silently wiped the rosary.
It is an item the Saint left for me. That alone is more than enough reason for me to treasure it.
She was the only human who viewed this lowly demon with kindness. I am a demon who thoroughly repays both grudges and debts of gratitude.
Squeak, squeak-.
Before long, the rosary began to take on a polished glow. Though its original color was black, as it belonged to the Saint, its elegance and class were incomparable to any other treasure.
It is truly a ridiculous situation, a creation of the Demon God polishing an object that conveys the love of God.
"I shouldn't let anyone find out."
Among the seven nations of the continent, the one most hostile toward the Demon Realm is the Holy Nation, where the Saint will be born in the future.
Naturally, as a sacred object of the Holy Nation, possessing a rosary in the Demon Realm is an act that could lead to charges of treason or blasphemy. I have no desire to be dragged away by the Demon Realm Police and imprisoned in Tartarus again.
"But I can't just throw it away... I've really been given a white elephant."
After polishing it until it shone brilliantly, I tucked the rosary into my pocket. I zipped the pocket shut tightly and completely changed into my outing clothes.
Though I was delayed for a moment by the sudden appearance of the rosary, I must hurry to the Southern Grand Duke. Information is something where the later you find out, the more you lose.
Creak-.
Just as I resolved this and opened the door.
"Noonim?"
A female demon with pale skin and black hair was standing at the door.
The demon, her red eyes cast downward, was fidgeting with her fingers interlaced for some reason.
"What brings you here, Noonim?"
"Um... Oscar. I have something to say regarding what happened today."
"Something to say? Shall we go inside?"
"N-no! I just need to hand you something..."
My sister, Adela, carefully reached into her coat and pulled out a small box.
As she held it out to me, her lips trembled as if she were making a confession.
"I will apologize right here and now for what happened today."
"Pardon?"
"Because of my arbitrary actions, it seems something serious has happened to your head..."
"No, I'm perfectly fi—"
"This is the Egg of Eagle King Horus, which I obtained when I visited the Demon Beast Forest recently. If you eat this, your injured head will feel a bit better."
"Ugh! S-suddenly, my head...!"
"Oscar...? Oscar!"
The moment the words 'Egg of Eagle King Horus' left Adela's mouth, I immediately clutched my head and collapsed. My face twisted as if I were about to die.
Seeing me like that, Adela didn't know what to do. Like a puppy panicking and whimpering, she grew restless.
"Ugh...! Noonim...! My, my head hurts so much...!"
"I'm sorry! I-I will find better spirit medicines! I'll go to Bigo right now and bring every healing medicine they have! Just hold on a little longer!"
"Healing medicines are great, but... I think something to boost my energy might be more helpful..."
"Y-you mean a tonic? Understood! I'll be back in a flash!"
Adela still seems to be under the impression that I've suffered a head injury. Perhaps it's because of a trauma from her past.
To put it kindly, she has lived her life as a warrior, but to be honest, she's a simpleton who knows nothing outside of combat.
Her combat ability is extraordinary. I'll give her that. Her fighting instincts, her eye for the battlefield, her mastery of weapons and hand-to-hand combat, and her control over magic are all superior to most demons. In the world five hundred years from now, she held a place among the absolute strong ones.
If she hadn't died pointlessly while trying to protect me in my previous life, the position of Second-in-Command of the Demon Army would have been hers. That is how much of a genius she was in battle.
However, she is utterly illiterate in every other field. This was because a nasty accident in her early childhood caused a severe head impact, leading to a decline in her intelligence. It happened before I was even born, so I don't know the details.
Even as a fighter who roams the battlefield, she should at least know basic medicine, but Adela, who lacks social skills and only knows how to play solo, doesn't even know the basics of healing. It's not like there are many creatures capable of wounding her body anyway.
If Adela had even a shred of medical knowledge, no matter how dull she is, she would have realized my head was perfectly fine. This situation is a gift.
"Hehehe."
"Lucifer? Why have you been laughing like that? You're making me nervous."
"Aaagh! My head! My head!"
"Ugh...! I-I'll be right back! Just wait a moment!"
"Spirit medicine... I need spirit medicine..."
"I-I know! Please, just hold on! I'll be back in the blink of an eye!"
Thanks to my realistic performance as a patient, Adela hastily set the box on the ground. Then, kicking off the earth with force, she vanished over the horizon like a bolt of lightning.
To think a demon with such incredible leg strength would be fooled by such a simple act. It's pity that she's my biological sister, but for me, it's an unparalleled windfall.
"Hehehe."
The Egg of Eagle King Horus, one of the Five Kings reigning over the Demon Beast Forest, has a value that cannot be measured in mere currency. Even the continent's greatest poachers failed in their search for it.
Since it's so rare, nothing has been passed down about its taste, but the fact that it pushes the quality of one's magic to the absolute limit makes it well worth eating.
To think such a precious spirit medicine would roll into my lap just by getting a knock on the head—and in the future, they'll probably keep coming in clusters like pumpkin vines. I almost want to get hit on the head a few hundred more times.
How could I possibly suppress a smile?
When the Demon God is bestowing such a holy smile upon me.
I'm truly torn between having the Egg of Horus fried or as an omelet.
*****
It didn't take long to travel from the northern to the southern part of the Demon Realm.
Although the Demon Realm is a vast and desolate land, I had a teleport scroll, a product of magical civilization.
Humans have things like cars and ships, but for demons who fly on wyverns, such things aren't really necessary. It's even said that human scientific civilization developed so rapidly because of their lack of magic; that's how great the difference is.
As a high-ranking demon, I have teleport scrolls, which are far more convenient than something like a wyvern.
Knock, knock-.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
No servants live in the mansion of the Southern Duke of the Demon Realm.
This is because Southern Grand Duke King turned them all into artworks for display.
Knock, knock-.
"Beautiful, elegant, and gentlemanly Southern Duke, can't you hear me?"
I spoke in a sing-song voice while knocking on the door.
A moment later, the iron gates of the mansion opened gloomily, granting me entrance.
A long, dark path shrouded in pitch-black darkness revealed itself before me.
"Wow, are we doing a courage test now?"
A dark cliff path in front of me, after I had survived 111 days without a single speck of light in Tartarus? How laughable.
One thing is for sure: the darkness is the only thing I find laughable. I have no intention of underestimating the Southern Duke's Mansion.
"Setting up a magic circle for an eight-year-old kid? If I end up wetting myself, your house is the one that'll get dirty, sir."
An ancient old demon who has existed since the dawn of the Demon Realm.
A demon who committed so many atrocities that he lost all interest in evil and eventually turned his pursuits toward art.
An outsider who lived over a million years, sending off friends, lovers, and grandchildren, only to sink into the river of sloth and shut himself away in his mansion.
In the Demon Realm, where the strong are as numerous as grains of sand on a beach, he is the one and only absolute strong one whom even the Demon King cannot treat lightly.
Southern Grand Duke King.
The being waiting at the end of this dark path is such a monster.
How could I possibly maintain a lighthearted attitude?
Step-.
Step-.
Step.......
The path stretching behind the door was so long that the end never seemed to appear, no matter how far I walked.
Since it's impossible for such a long road to exist within the limited space of a mansion, King must have prepared a magic circle that warps the laws of nature.
I cannot tell if this is a trap designed to toy with me or fireworks to welcome me.
Thus, I keep walking, exuding an unearned sense of leisure.
Stop-.
It felt as though I had been walking for an hour or two. The path still had no end in sight.
However, my steady pace came to a halt. It was because of a creature floating in the void before me.
"Wow, I see you've developed a passion for vegetables this time?"
It was a bizarre creature.
Its eyes were crimson tomatoes.
Its cheeks were bright red apples.
Its forehead was an orange pumpkin.
Its chin was a purple eggplant.
Its nose was a light green cucumber.
Its ears were vivid yellow oranges.
A being whose features were composed of various vegetables and fruits. I doubt anything more peculiar could be found in this world, at least not within the Demon Realm.
Despite everything, the harmony of colors and the regularity of the shapes prove that King is a top-tier artist.
"Anyway, I have to give you credit for the originality. You're the only one who can come up with such fresh ideas despite your old age, Duke."
"...Who are you?"
The brown lips, woven like corn husks, fluttered.
From the parted lips, a surprisingly normal voice flowed out.
"You look like you haven't even been weaned yet. Are you lost?"
The question was clearly intended to be sarcastic.
I understand. To an old man who has lived a million years, I, looking barely ten, must seem like nothing more than a newborn fetus.
"I wander because I'm young. That's how you end up getting lost."
Now, it begins.
"Isn't that better than being an old geezer shut in his own house for thousands of years?"
"...."
I must somehow provoke 'interest' from this old man whose very passion has grown withered.
In order to extract information regarding my regression.