52
Chapter 52
"Don't stop me."
"Halt."
"Do you really want to watch your own daughter die?"
"I am the Pope."
"You're my father."
"I cannot let personal relationships ruin public duty."
"...."
"Dame Beatrice."
My father's voice was as rigid as always. As if he refused to be swayed by something as trivial as emotion.
"Father, I want to live."
"...."
"Liberated from the Beast of slumber? What good is that if I'm dead?"
"Dame Beatrice."
"The Lord ignored us. The devil saved us. I would rather believe in the devil."
"Your heart has been consumed by blasphemy."
A whirlwind of conflicting emotions surges within me. My mind is utterly chaotic.
My father was the object of my admiration. A man I loved, and loved, and should have loved a thousand times over.
A man I was meant to adore.
Sring-.
But my father will never respond to my love.
A murderous intent, born from resentment and the desperate urge to survive, wells up. I want to strike down this hateful father who stands alone, guarding the gate I must pass.
A lethal aura swirls around my grip. I drew my sword with killing intent. My Greatsword glowed with a dark light, as if it would mercilessly cut down anything in its path.
"I intend to survive. Will you continue to block me?"
"Devils are called devils for a reason. Do not wander down this wrong path."
"It's so I can live. Without this power, I could never surpass you, Father."
"I am the Pope. The leader of the Church and the pillar for the believers. I cannot stand by while you wield demonic power."
"...I contracted with a devil to save you, yet it is with this power that I must kill you..."
"Do you even believe you have killed me already?"
Rumble-.
The atmosphere turns cold and heavy. Holy Power, like frost, falls to the ground as snowflakes. My entire body feels heavy, as if soaked in water.
"You are arrogant."
"Lucifer is the Devil of Pride, after all."
"Have you forgotten who is standing before you?"
"I am the one who killed Agesiliad."
"Give it your all."
"...."
Force settles into my father's voice. Dragging my blackened Greatsword across the ground, I took a step toward the man who remained stubbornly principled.
"Even if you kneel before me now, I'll have no regrets-!"
My father draws his sword as well. It is as massive as my Greatsword, and its strength and sharpness are similar, but there is a stark difference between the two blades.
Color.
Black and white.
Darkness and light.
The devil and the Lord.
It is common knowledge that a devil cannot defeat the Lord. After all, was Lucifer not an angel who betrayed the Lord and was cast down into Hell as punishment?
However, the Lord does not help humans. That is the only truth I realized while living as a priest.
On the other hand, devils do help humans. Therefore, I have no choice but to win this duel.
Sssss-.
Vvvvv-.
Ominous demonic power condenses within my demonic sword, while brilliant holy power gathers in my father's holy sword.
Focus.
He is my father, but he is my enemy. I must kill him to survive.
Recalling the moment I split Agesiliad in half, I lunged forward. My body moved like a bolt of lightning.
A single streak of dark flash ignites. In an instant, the entire world is blanketed in deep darkness, and my blade strikes the only being shining within that void.
The being emitting radiance also swings his sword. A strike that has reached a level of perfection unlike any I have ever seen.
In response, I—
"Yes, I will give it my all."
I unleash the most powerful strike I can possibly manifest.
With the single-minded determination to kill him and flee, prolonging this life contracted to a devil.
A violent clash is inevitable. I am not confident that I can overwhelm him in a single blow.
I have only just become an Absolute Strong One through Lucifer's power, but my father has always stood at that absolute peak.
Though I am aware of this, I do not retreat. Exerting every ounce of strength I possess, I thrust my final blow.
With that thought, I drove my sword into a single point: my father's heart.
Pshhh-.
There was no clash.
The collision of iron against iron, the clash of black and white, did not happen.
Instead, there was only the sound of someone's knees collapsing powerlessly.
Thud-.
It echoed quietly.
"Guh..."
I hear my father's groan. A heavy weight crashes onto my shoulders. My father's body spasms, and the tip of my sword trembles along with him.
It is not surprising. I made it this way. I have just pierced my father's heart, and as a result, he is coughing up blood while leaning his head against my shoulder. This is a clear victory for me.
However, there is one thing I simply cannot understand.
"Why...?"
"Cough... cough..."
"Why... did you pull back your sword...?"
At the final moment.
Surely, at the moment when two Greatswords should have collided with a roar that shook the mountains and rivers.
My father lowered his sword. And then, he simply surrendered his body to the blade I thrust forward.
It is incomprehensible.
"Why...?"
My father's lips move as he heaves up a mouthful of crimson blood.
"How... how can a father... kill his own daughter..."
"...!"
"Before I was the Pope... I was a father to a child..."
"...! Stop, stop talking nonsense! When did you ever think of me as a daughter...!"
"As Pope, I cannot let you go... but as a father, I cannot bring myself to kill you... This is... the only way..."
"What... what do you mean...!"
"Do... do not misunderstand..."
A breath, as fragile as if it might extinguish at any moment, reaches my ear.
"I didn't choose not to stop you... I... I failed to stop you...! That is how the world will know it...!"
"...!"
"If I simply let you leave... I become an apostate who violated a Church Decree... Then your mother, left alone in this world, would also become an apostate..."
My father mentions my mother.
"Run away as you are... I will be recorded as the Pope who died failing to stop you... Then your mother can receive protection from the Church..."
"...Why."
My vision is spinning.
The world feels strange.
"Why didn't you kill me!"
For the first time in my life, I use informal speech with my father. It is an impolite act, but the words leap out of my mouth without passing through my brain.
"Because... I love you..."
"Y-you don't love me!"
"...."
"You never once smiled at me! Not once did you praise me or acknowledge me! I trained all year round just because I wanted to be acknowledged by you! You never once gave me a simple 'well done'!"
My father does not love me.
On the day of the war with the Nation of War, when I stood at the vanguard, he stood beside me.
But that was merely a perfectly rational choice based on maximizing combat power.
"That was..."
"Say... say something! It's true! You never loved me!"
"Because you chose the grueling path of a knight..."
"...What...?"
"I had to... raise you to be strong..."
"...."
At the sound of his ragged voice, my heart sinks—thump.
"You know, don't you... that the way people look at a woman becoming a Holy Knight... is never kind... I had to avoid smiling so you would become tougher... I had to withhold praise so you would train harder... After ten years of that, you eventually became the greatest Holy Knight... but the bishops' gazes toward you are still not welcoming..."
That was the reason.
No.
It shouldn't be that way.
If that's really true, then I, who killed you.
What does that make this piece of trash who drove a blade into her father's chest?
No, more fundamentally...
"I...!"
"Beatrice...?"
"I dreamed of being a knight because I wanted your love...!"
"...."
"Because I wanted your praise! Only because I wanted that! That's why I wanted to become a Holy Knight!"
"...I am sorry."
A situation shifted out of gear, racing down the wrong track, until it finally meets its ruin.
Facing eternal death.
My father still rests his head on my shoulder. I cannot pull the sword out. The blood that would surge from the wound the blade was plugging would only hasten his end. Nor can I push it any deeper.
All I can do now is support my father, whose chest is pierced by a Greatsword, and hold him close.
"I... was inexperienced."
The firm and broad muscles of his back tremble like a sob. In my father's aged voice, I can hear an unmistakable weep.
"If only I had spoken with you more... I would have done whatever it took to fulfill your true wish..."
"St-stop it...! Please, stop talking...!"
"Because I was inexperienced... I couldn't..."
I loved my father.
My father loved me too.
Then why did it end up like this?
"I've been Pope... for over forty years... but it was my first time raising a child..."
"Stop! I get it! I know what you're trying to say! If any more blood leaks out...!"
Gush-!
"Ah, ugh...?"
"Cough... as a child, it's natural for you to be inexperienced... but as a parent... having experienced the passage of time with a child... I should have approached you first... I foolishly thought being blunt was helpful..."
Crimson blood continues to flow. It is not mine, so why does it cling so stubbornly to my body?
My body is hot. It is because I am covered in hot blood. Blood? Is this truly blood?
...Yes. Transparent blood. A condensation of bursting emotions flowing from the eyes. Something that has already begun to flow from my own.
It helped. It did. It's fine. Thanks to your education, I eventually became the Church's first female Holy Knight! I even earned the title of the strongest Holy Knight!
You weren't wrong. The situation was just slightly misaligned. There are no villains here.
So... don't die. Please don't die. I'm begging you. Please, don't leave me.
"Ugh, sob, uuuugh..."
Hot blood flows endlessly from my eyes. Even though I am sobbing pathetically, my father no longer scolds me. Instead, he gazes at me with infinite tenderness and gently strokes the back of my head.
"Such a fragile daughter... I was too harsh on you..."
"Sob... I-I didn't even know you felt that way..."
"I didn't know either... do not blame yourself... it was my fault as a parent for not knowing your heart... how could I hold a child responsible..."
My father's voice grows fainter and fainter. Before my father, who is preparing to cross the river of no return, I despair, scream, and wail.
How on earth did we end up in such a relationship? Boiling tears simply pour out without end. I feel so wretched, so sorrowful, that I grow hateful toward myself.
"Let me... see your face..."
"Ugh... sob..."
My father's thick hand rises powerlessly, covering my chin and cheek. His chin, now stained red, trembles like a thin thread.
No, don't look. I'm a complete mess right now. I'm drenched in tears.
I'm so far removed from the strong, steadfast, and iron-walled image you always emphasized.
Contrary to my desperate wish, my father forced himself to look at me, cupping my face in his hand. Knowing this was his final act, I dared not stop him. With a moist gaze, he barely managed to speak.
"My daughter..."
"Sob, F-Father..."
"You've grown into such a beautiful woman..."
Thud-.
Then, my father's hand, stained with my tears and his blood, fell to the ground.
Exhaling his final breath, he softly whispered.
A hymn honoring the One above, to whom he had dedicated his entire life.
"The Lord arrives..."
"My glorious Lord arrives..."
"The horns of blessing welcome the Lord, echoing far..."
"The day the Lord's grace descends upon the earth, strand by strand..."
"On that day, my Lord walks the path of love..."
The frailest hymn in the world, yet the most resonant.
"The Lord arrives... to save all creation..."
And so, the hymn quietly spreads.
"...."
It is over now.
"...."
My body will not move. If I am to ensure my father's death wasn't in vain, I must flee and survive, but I cannot find the will to live.
It is strange. Until the moment we clashed, I was filled with the single-minded determination to kill and survive, but now that he is gone, the will is gone.
It is the guilt of killing my father with my own hands.
"Ah, aaaah..."
After laying my father gently on the ground, I pulled my hands away. I see my palms, soaked in the blood my father shed. I feel like I'm going insane.
I cannot die. My father gave his life to save me.
I simply cannot find a reason to live.
As I floundered helplessly in the depths of such profound despair.
"Sigh... Commander, you have to leave. Why are you just standing there?"
A familiar voice reached me.
I shifted my tear-blurred vision and saw a face I knew well.
Lucio. My subordinate, and the grateful friend who pulled me out of prison.
But why.
Why does my friend have such a horrific smile on his face?
The corners of his mouth are pulled up so high they almost touch his ears, reminding me of a devil's expression I once saw in an old book long ago....
"Oh? You killed the Pope? Wow! Great job! As expected, our Commander is amazing!"
"...! You, how can you say such a thing...!"
"Why? What's wrong? Is it weird that I'm happy?"
Lucio's face changes. His physique, voice, and height all shift. Black wings sprout from his back, and wicked goat horns pierce through his forehead. In his hand, he held an inverted cross.
"I mean, the Pope is dead. Would a devil actually be sad? Ahaha, that would be quite amusing, wouldn't it, Lady?"
"...! You...!"
The Fallen Angel, Great Demon Lucifer.
The shock left me breathless. That cheerful and kind Lucio was actually Lucifer? That Lucio, who was a devout Holy Knight, albeit a bit debauched?
"Lucio...! You, who on earth are you...."
"I guess you don't understand the situation? Well, that's fair. To find out the pillar you believed in your whole life was actually a devil. Even a modern play would be criticized for such a script. But reality is always more fantastic than theater. By any chance, have you heard of something called 'Play'?"
"A play...?"
"I was an angel once, you know? So I enjoyed a little play as a Holy Knight. But there, I met a lonely girl. A girl who was incredibly lonely and plagued by obsessions. Can't you guess who that girl was?"
"Lu-Lucifer...! Don't tell me you planned it all from the start...!"
"Don't misunderstand; I didn't exactly intend for everything. I just tweaked the situation a bit and set the stage."
Lucio. No, Lucifer's words gouge into my heart. As the horrific truths flowing from Lucifer's grotesque mouth reveal themselves, my sanity collapses.
"I'm satisfied. It was so much fun. The story of a father and daughter spiraling into tragedy was quite a treat to watch."
"...! Lucifer! You vile devil!"
"Hmm?"
"If it weren't for you! If it weren't for you, my father...!!"
Wrath leaks through my lips. Anger dominates my confused mind.
To that, Lucifer whispers melodically.
"Why? What did I even do?"
"Lucifer! You piece of filth!"
"Geez, why don't you calm down? You're staring at me like you want to kill me."
Grab-!
I seized Lucifer by the collar. Lucifer merely stared back at me with a despicable smile.
"I'll kill you! My father's enemy...! I'll rip you into a thousand pieces!!"
"...Me?"
"Yes! You worm-like spawn of hell...!"
Just as I wrapped both hands around Lucifer's neck and tried to strangle him, wanting to replace that smile with pain so intense he'd wish for death.
Lucifer began to speak eloquently.
"Hmm... but why do you hate me?"
"Because...! Because of you, my father...!"
"Whoa, don't misunderstand. The Pope was destined to die anyway. Due to the invasion of the Nation of War. Not just the Pope, but every believer in the Holy Nation was destined to be trampled by the horses of the Nation of War."
Lucifer was a silver-tongued speaker.
Terrifyingly so.
"Think about it! If the Lady hadn't contracted with me, they all would have died! But because the Lady eventually met me and made a Demonic Contract, the Lady saved everyone! Only the Pope died!"
"That may be true, but...."
"By simple calculation, isn't it a huge gain? Only one Pope died! Originally, everyone including the Pope would've died, but thanks to this Lucifer, the Lady made it so!"
"Umm...."
"Ah! But there is one difference! A difference that is very important to you!"
"What is...?"
Nauseatingly, Lucifer was good with words.
With his arms spread wide.
Suddenly, the words my father left before he died came back to me.
'Devils are called devils for a reason.'
"You're the one who personally killed the Pope!"
"...!"
"What? That the Holy Nation would have been annihilated? That everyone would've died? Who cares about that! That would've been done by those Nation of War bastards!"
"Ah...!"
"With your own hands, you killed him! Your own father! Isn't it funny? In exchange for preventing a horrific future where the Nation of War kills everyone, only one Pope died! But the mere fact that you killed him with your own hands! Just that guilt alone is making you go insane!"
"Aaaaaagh...!!"
"Natural death is not permitted for those who contract with a devil! Don't worry! A devil never voids a contract! You must spend your entire life dragging yourself forward with that guilt! Do you think devils are called devils for nothing? You are destined to be bound by the consciousness of sin for a million, no, a billion years!"
I don't remember what happened after that.
"AAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
After letting out a scream torn from the depths of my body and soul, my memory fragmented, and I wandered aimlessly, searching for a destination that didn't exist.
Driven only by the thought of not making my father's death a waste, I drifted into the Demon Beast Forest, built a small house, and began to live a quiet, secluded life.
That is where my story ends.
The story of a Holy Knight named Beatrice Constantino, who lives only because she cannot die.