28
Chapter 28: The Waltz of the Holy Relic
Crunch-!
I can vividly feel the tender flesh between the fingers gripping the pocket knife. Something sticky settles over my gloves.
Cough, blood leaks from Retavis's mouth. It flows down the back of my hand, covered by the white gloves.
Red blood always intoxicates my mind. The sensations of my entire body awaken as if struck by lightning.
"Guh... aa... ugh...."
When putting on a show, the way to find out if it was a success or a failure is to look at the audience's reaction.
There are two types of audiences reacting to a successful show. Either they scream and rave like madmen, or—
"Haha, your mouth is hanging wide open and you're letting out a clueless moan. You must have loved my show, huh?"
Or the audience is completely immersed in the show, staring blankly and letting out only faint sounds.
"Guh... hu, hueeee...."
Ah, in this case, is it because I'm covering his mouth? No matter. Controlling and handling the audience is a basic qualification for a 'veteran magician' or a 'master director'.
Thwack-!
"Ouch! You're trying to fight back even with a hole in your throat? As expected of a demon! You're truly a brainless race that lives on fighting spirit and grit!"
"Ugh, ugh-er-ugh-aa...!"
Uttering unintelligible words about killing me, Retavis tightened his jaw. Since my hand is inside his mouth, he intends to bite off my wrist, the point of connection.
A good decision. There's no way the teeth of a demon, which can crush rock, couldn't snap the wrist of a fluid demon.
Although there aren't two body parts I absolutely must not lose, what can't someone facing death attempt?
"Kreeeeeeee!!"
Retavis maximizes his jaw strength, attempting to sever my wrist.
Squeeze—.
However.
"This is a nice massage. I felt like my wrist muscles were a bit tight lately, and this instantly clears up the stiffness."
"Ugh, ugh-er...?"
"Oh, you're wondering why it won't break?"
A veteran magician is one who prepares for all futures.
Retavis, whose desperate counterattack failed, looked up at me in bewilderment with wide eyes. I waved my left hand, the one not holding the pocket knife, before his eyes. My left hand was covered by a single snow-white glove I've worn since I first left the Duke's estate.
"Do you see this? Hehe."
"Guh......."
"On the outside, it looks like just a white cotton glove, right? In fact! It is just an ordinary white cotton glove! Except for the fact that the thread used to make this was pulled from the cocoons of Arachne, the Spider King!"
Arachne, the Spider King. The ruler of the Demon Beast Forest and one of the Five Kings, Arachne is an absolute strong one on par with Eagle King Horus and Dragon King Endros.
Naturally, the spider web spun by Arachne herself is no ordinary thing. It is tougher than adamantium and cannot be torn or scratched by any attack.
It maintains its pure white color without absorbing impurities like blood, completely blocks the wearer's energy from leaking, and shutters extreme external shocks. It even gives the wearer a vivid sensation as if they weren't wearing gloves at all; it was the magic tool I used most fondly in my previous life.
You might be wondering why I called it ordinary. I understand. But 'ordinary' is naturally subjective. Whether it's Arachne's gloves or whatever, if my standard says so, then it is.
"Your teeth are starting to hurt, aren't they? You can't even put strength into your jaw."
"I... ugh-aaaaa...!"
Stab-! Crunch-!
Suddenly, Retavis let out a piercing scream. It wasn't a struggle to gather strength, but a scream caused by pain. Because I, having pulled the pocket knife out from the inside of his throat, began to slash the surrounding warm area.
Uvula, esophagus, vocal cords, arteries. Various soft components made of blood, flesh, and tissue are scattered by my hand. The components that make up the machine called Retavis are gradually disintegrating because of a single screwdriver—me.
Slick—.
"......!.........!!"
I found a large blood vessel, like a tendon. I cannot resist curiosity, so I immediately swung my hand and cut it in one stroke, causing a fountain of blood to erupt from Retavis's nose and mouth.
Ah, that was an artery. I frown imagining the pain he must be feeling. For a demon with a weak stomach like me, it was too stimulating an imagination.
"Geez, Noonim. Let's act with some elegance. You're dripping blood all over, and it's getting on my clothes."
"Guh... ugh... ugh...."
"Ah, why Noonim? You don't have eggs anymore, right? Surely you don't think you're a male just because a pillar remains?"
After that, I spent a long time fluttering my invisible hand, cutting everything I hit, but each time, Retavis only showed a violent reaction and didn't completely breathe his last. This is because demons possess a vitality as tenacious as cockroaches.
He probably won't die easily unless his neck is properly severed.
Hmm... just cutting inside the body is a bit monotonous...
It is certainly a stimulating sight. To the point of exciting someone like me, who has tried almost every kind of bizarre act, inserting a hand into the mouth to slash the throat and esophagus is sufficiently cruel.
But, something feels boring.
I know the reason. The reason why I feel this current knife work and this scene of slaughter are boring.
"This is no fun."
"Guh...."
"They say that when cleaning fish, there's no real satisfaction unless the fish is still flopping around. That's exactly how I feel right now."
"Ugh... uu... aa...."
"I can't tell if you've accepted your death or just given up, but you're not reacting at all. This is so boring. How is this any different from dissecting a corpse?"
Is there no way to make this killing a bit more enjoyable? Something that really stimulates my interest?
It is a very difficult and complex problem. Having to find interest in a toy that has already lost its appeal.
But who am I? I am a wanderer in search of riddles. A man who welcomes a challenge. Finding an answer that exists somewhere is easier for me than breathing.
"......Gaaaah!"
Right then, Retavis, who had only been 'pretending' to give up until now, suddenly kicked off the ground.
He lunged forward, pushing his mouth even deeper. If he did that, my pocket knife would penetrate his internal organs, yet he was willing to risk such a dangerous move.
Whoosh-! Crunch-!
I quickly pulled my hand out. I left the dagger inside.
That was close. If I had been a fraction of a second slower, my arm would have been severed. I was interested in living with a hook for a hand like a pirate captain, but for a magician, hands are everything.
The moment his life flashed before his eyes and the River of Three Crossings appeared, Retavis squeezed out every last bit of strength to find a way to survive. His desperate plan for survival was to put my forearm, which wasn't covered by the glove, into his mouth and bite it off.
It was a gamble of all or nothing. Retavis's plan succeeded brilliantly, and I pulled my hand out after tossing the pocket knife into his body.
He'll feel a tearing pain in his gut every time he moves, but that's better than dying helplessly. Retavis used his head well.
"Khak! Cak! Guhhhh...."
Clutching his freed throat with one hand, Retavis glares at me with murderous intent.
Now what? I've lost my magic tool.
And it's not like my 'assistant' is here with me.
Out of habit, I held out my left hand and moved my right hand to my pocket. The distracting left hand is used to buy extra time to prepare the magic, and the right hand is for finding the answer during that time.
Clatter—.
I feel something hard at my fingertips. A piece of metal in the shape of two bars joined together, 12 centimeters long and 7 centimeters wide.
Seriously, this is of no help in the current situation. To think he'd lunge at me with enough resolve to swallow my pocket knife. His will is impressive.
Spring-!
Suddenly, Retavis, who had been gasping for air while clutching his throat, bolted toward me.
"Gaaaaaaaaah!!"
From the scream he let out, I could feel how desperate Retavis was. He was scraping together his final strength to move his limbs and pounce on me.
"Gaaaaaaaaaaah! Ugh-er! Ugh-er!"
"...This might be a bit dangerous. I'm glad it's getting interesting, but this is a bit more thrilling than necessary...?"
With skin turned red as blood leaked from his vessels, Retavis tried to crush me from above. A strategy made possible by his overwhelming height, nearly twice my own.
As expected, demons are an incredible race. Their vitality is so tenacious. This whole area is already drenched in the blood Retavis has shed. A human would have died five or six times over.
Whoosh-!
Seeing Retavis's shadow loom over me, I quickly found an object in my pocket and threw it.
A solid object with angular edges. My magic prop for this turn, consisting of a long bar with a slightly shorter bar attached perpendicularly, was the rosary left by the Saint.
First, I need to buy time. Since it is an item left by the Saint, I should handle it with care, but since it was crafted from the most sacred ore on the continent, it shouldn't break.
And so, the moment the cross met the lunging body of Retavis.
Sizzle-!
"Gaaaaaaah!"
"...Oh?"
Something happened that neither I nor Retavis expected.
His fierce and savage momentum vanished, and Retavis leaped back, jumping as if he had been hit by a powerful static shock. Black smoke was rising from the shoulder that had touched the cross.
Retavis, having scrambled back several meters, stopped abruptly. This was because the cliff where Leonard had fallen was behind him.
Trapped with nowhere to go. Only then did Retavis have the composure to look around and stare at me with eyes that regained a shred of reason.
More specifically, he stared at the black rosary that had been thrown, collided with him, bounced back, and returned to my hand.
A shocked silence hung between us. Both of us were dumbfounded. I looked at the rosary in my hand with a bewildered feeling.
The rosary is glowing.
Only then did I understand the situation unfolding. And why the rosary was acting this way.
"Eureka."
It came to me. A very interesting idea. A legendary piece of inspiration that would breathe life into this boring fight.
Rosary. Cross. Rosario. The name doesn't matter. What matters is that a great power dwells within this cross, a power that fries filthy races like demons the moment they touch it with holy power.
"Curious about what this is? How about you feel it for yourself!"
It was an object always kept close by the Saint, who possesses the greatest amount of holy power in the Holy Church. To a demon or a monster, the cross itself is essentially a death note.
Holy power repels demonic energy. It defines it as an evil force and punishes those who dare defy the Lord's doctrines with an overwhelming force. This is why I had a seizure when the Saint tried to inject holy power into me to heal me back in Tartarus.
Though the true holy power she exerted, burning her own lifespan, managed to break the wall between races and successfully heal me.
The fact that I can touch the cross with my bare hands is likely because the Saint handed it to me personally. Otherwise, there's no other explanation.
"......! Ugh, ugh-aaa!"
Retavis's eyes grew as wide as washbasins. Since his mouth was already torn to shreds and dangling, there was nothing left to describe.
He must have seen the black cross in my right hand. Since it's a cross but colored like ink, it probably acted as camouflage and was hard to see at night. Of course, right now it's emitting a dazzling radiance, making it brighter than anything else.
I deliberately held the cross high so it would be clearly visible.
"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh-aa...!"
Of course, as with all crimes, if you don't get caught, you're innocent.
Therefore, I am a good and exemplary demon. A law-abiding demon who serves as a model for others.
"Ugh! Ugh-er! Ugh-eeeee!"
After recognizing the cross, Retavis shriveled up like a mouse before a cat. To a demon native to the Demon Realm, the Saint's rosary was a true object of terror.
Ah, this really is fun. The reaction is explosive, and it's hilarious how Retavis is so ridiculously swayed by this tiny object in my hand.
"Noonim, let's dance a wonderful dance! The title is 'Waltz of a Demon Realm Night'!"
"O-oi-ah! Oi-ah!"
"You're telling me not to come closer? How can we dance in sync without getting close! Don't be shy! I'll lead you expertly!"
Intoxicated by the desire to swing the cross as quickly as possible, I hurried to put on the white mask and approached Retavis in one leap. Due to the cliff behind him, he had no choice but to try and dodge to the left.
I quickly cut off Retavis's path and pressed him against the edge of the cliff. Retavis tried to force his way through using his back, but—
Sizzle-!
As I lightly extended my hand and pressed the cross against his shoulder, he immediately screamed and recoiled. Its lethality is incomparable to the previous pocket knife.
"Gaaaaaaaaah!"
"Geez, interaction between partners is the most important part of a waltz. If you suddenly charge in without thinking, it breaks the rhythm."
The black rosary was now emitting a divine radiance, brighter and whiter than anything in the world despite its color. The light that the Saint always wore softly around her in Tartarus became abundant around the cross.
Having detected a target that must be eradicated, it had entered a state of purification.
I'm fine because I have some unknown resistance, but divine light is no different from molten lava to demons and magical beasts. The creatures of the Demon God, the most hideous god, cannot withstand the radiance of holy power.
Furthermore, if the cross itself touches the skin, what would happen to a demon's fragile flesh?
Sizzle— thud.
"...! Ugh, ugh-ock!"
A shoulder melted away effortlessly without a hint of resistance. Both Retavis and I were surprised. I had wondered, but to think it would annihilate the area just by touching it.
Once again, I realize how foolish the priests were. Despite possessing such lethal power, didn't they always thrust it before demons, devils, and monsters and spout nonsense like 'In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!'?
It's partly because it's the Saint's cross, making the holy power even stronger.
As the shoulder vanished, the arm fell off. Faced with this surreal pain and situation, Retavis lost his will to fight.
The lost fighting spirit summons a forgotten fear. Even as his body stiffened and creaked, he moved.
Retavis tried his best to move his two legs and escape the domain of the cross I held.
Do you really think that'll work, you idiot?
"Noonim! Where do you keep trying to go! The waltz isn't over yet!"
"Ugh, ugh-aa! Gaaaah!"
"Don't worry and let's match our steps one by one! One, two! One, two... Oh my! Your feet got tangled!"
I firmly stepped on Retavis's foot as he tried to flee. He was so drained of strength that I felt I could hold him there for about three seconds. That was more than enough.
Whack-! Sizzle-!
"Guuuuuuuh!"
"Follow my rhythm! I might look like this, but I'm a gentle man!"
Crack-! Thud-! Bam-!
Excitedly swinging the cross, I beat various parts of Retavis's body. No, I melted them.
He struggled desperately to escape, but I first slashed the cross across his lower body and severed his legs. No, I melted them.
With both legs gone, Retavis collapsed onto the ground, his sole remaining arm waving uselessly.
I knelt reverently before him and repeatedly raised and struck the cross. No, I melted him.
Flashes of light burst like a storm. The radiance of justice rains down from the sky. On the ground, blood-soaked flesh and mucus splatter everywhere.
This is the will of the Lord, the judgment of God.
I'm the one gripping and swinging the rosary, so how is this the will of God? If someone were to ask me such a tedious question, I would answer like this:
That I am the Apostle of the Lord.
Why not? I received the rosary directly from the Saint, the Lord's closest daughter, and I've even received the love of the most noble and pure Saint in the world. Although I've never been baptized, I'm the man who almost got the Saint's first kiss.
Therefore, from this moment on, I am the Apostle of God. I am also a mischievous magician, the first film director, and a brat who loves to play, fitting for my age.
Thwack! Thump! Crunch! Crack!
In the light emitted by the great and benevolent Saint, a pitiful demon is dying. And the one killing him is me.
I mercilessly crush a young demon, who is losing his light of life in real-time, with a tool designed to spread love.
Is this love? Yes, it is love. It is the love of a quirky apostle shaped by the benevolent Lord. Using a product of love created by God, I am beating him with love.
It may not look like it, but my heart is truly filled with nothing but love for Retavis.
They say that another word for love is pain. It's the same context. There isn't much difference between the love between lovers and the love bestowed by God.
I hope people don't judge me by the outdated standards of the old world set by fossils. Well, if they hate it, there's nothing I can do.
Bam! Sizzle! Crunch!
I perform evil with the cross. The cross performs evil. The Lord's holy relic is being used as a tool for slaughter.
The positions of good and evil are swapped. The most corrupt creation of a god wields the grace of the Lord. A revenge called purification blooms at my fingertips.
"...."
"...."
Retavis no longer moans. His heartbeat has stopped, and his form has completely vanished. It's not just because he was beaten, but because he was purified from head to toe by the holy power of the rosary.
The show is over. The sole audience member has departed.
I don't know where he went. To the afterlife, hell, or heaven, perhaps. No one knows the world after death. Though the great Lord, whom I've decided to believe in starting today, would likely know.
When a delightful show concludes, things remain. The cleanup and the afterglow. For now, I want to savor the afterglow.
It's been a while since I experienced a slaughter, so my pounding heart won't calm down easily. If you can't avoid it, enjoy it—that's my life motto.
I also need to take care of Adela, who must be experiencing chaos in my room, and my Aunt, whom I left tied up and stuffed away there. I must finish up here as well. But those are all matters for later.
Right now, what I must do is—
"Huuuup-."
Taking a deep breath, I let the cool night air of the Demon Realm into my lungs.
"Wheeeew-."
Exhaling deeply, I enjoyed the pungent scent of blood. This should be enough for today.
I feel completely refreshed. Partly because I succeeded in a revenge I couldn't achieve in my previous life, and partly because I've gained a new title: the Apostle of God. I also gained a stepmother.
My mother, the Lord. From this day forward, I shall diligently continue my purification activities in Your name.
Therefore, please keep a watchful eye on me.
On Oscar Lucifer, who shall become Your most virtuous son—.
*****
Thud, thud, thud, thud....
My vision blurs and my consciousness fades.
Where was I again?
Ah, right. Endros' Cliff. I came here after being lured by my youngest sibling, Oscar, and witnessed a shocking sight.
The sight of my youngest committing kin-slaughter without any hesitation.
I felt a strange sense of awkwardness seeing him perform something I couldn't even imagine with such lack of repulsion.
But, why have things turned out like this now?
Why is Oscar on top of me, striking me down with that monstrosity?
Where did he even find such a thing?
It hurts. It hurts too much.
More searing than the pain of flesh burning, more aching than the agony of my organs being torn apart by a pocket knife, is the fact that I cannot offer any resistance, simply waiting for the being before me to kill me.
Oscar was wearing a mask I don't know when he put on. The snow-white magician's hat, the mask as white as a snowflake, and the pure white suit combined with the bright radiance of the black cross to shine blindingly. Amidst that, the splattered red flower stains suit him with a chilling perfection.
Is that a devil?
...No.
That is far more than just a devil.
A devil is a black entity that embodies inherent evil and desire. But that thing, draped in white from head to toe, is beating me to death with a sacred relic of the Sun God.
Who could look at that and call it a devil?
That is an angel.
Dressed entirely in pure white, he is the very image of an angel.
The most wicked and malicious angel in the world.