7
Chapter 7
"Would you like to pray with me?"
The Saint asked, wearing a gentle smile as she did every day.
It's truly strange. I wonder how her smile alone can shine so brightly in the depths of this dark Tartarus. Looking at her gaunt complexion, it doesn't seem like she's overflowing with Holy Power.
"Forget it, I don't believe in God."
"The Lord resides in your heart, so you may pray to whatever it is you truly believe in."
"The only thing I believe in is myself. Are you telling me to pray to myself?"
"Of course. That would be better than doing nothing at all."
The Saint forced a black rosary into my right hand, which was bound by iron chains. Then, she softly clasped my large hand with her two small ones.
The Saint's small lips parted.
"Please relax your hand."
"I didn't think I was gripping it that hard."
"The rosary isn't going anywhere. Is there any reason to keep your fist clenched?"
"Heh, I guess you're right."
I must have been subconsciously tensing my right hand. It's a habit from a lifetime of doing nothing but fighting.
"Mr. Demon, there is something I wish to say regarding your fist. May I?"
"Go ahead. Why not?"
"When you clench your fist tightly, nothing remains inside; however, when you open your palm, you can hold the whole world."
The Saint spoke with a flushed face, as if delivering a sacred gospel.
"That's true, but there's one thing you don't know, Saint."
Since that rubbed me the wrong way, I offered my own answer. It was a response completely opposite to the Saint's philosophy.
"Fists are made for beating the hell out of arrogant bastards who think they've gripped onto something. Didn't you know?"
"Is that so?"
"Obviously. Money? Riches? Power? Why does any of that matter? Those people who act all high and mighty just because they have a few coins... they're disgusting."
"That's an interesting perspective."
Pffft, the Saint let out a little laugh. No matter what I say, she never tells me I'm wrong.
"Then please pray just as you are."
Thanks for the concern.
"Now, please follow along."
The Saint pressed her forehead against my right hand holding the rosary and began to murmur devoutly. Meanwhile, she tapped my waist as if urging me to follow, so I reluctantly opened my mouth.
To think I'd actually be praying in my life... I've lived long enough to see everything. Though it feels a bit cheap for the price of living five hundred years.
"O Lord, who has granted me this precious day, your humble servant dares to offer his gratitude."
"O Chaos, God of Chaos, please pour out your tears and sweep this damn continent away with a flood."
"Please grant your mercy and grace to this pitiful and young lamb as well."
"Otherwise, I'll just blow up your altar... Saint, why do you keep making me sound like some pathetic guy?"
"Please grant me the wisdom to bring this demon to repentance, O Lord."
Gosh, she's the one who's foolish and pitiful, yet here she is praying for someone else's repentance.
Repentance? As if that would ever happen. I am Oscar Lucifer, the Second-in-Command of the Demon Army. The Northern Grand Duke of the Demon Realm. The Joker of a single careless glass of blood. I'm the very one who plunged the continent into the chaos of the apocalypse; I should dream of something that's actually possible.
"Saint, there is a request for a visitation."
While I was engaged in this prayer-that-wasn't-really-a-prayer with the Saint, Kelth's deep voice pierced through my ears.
Kelth's voice was trembling. He seemed to be suppressing an uncontrollable rage.
...Rage? Why?
Kelth is the type who only showed a sliver of hostility even when Lilith, the Western Duke of the Demon Realm, visited. For him to express his emotions so openly...
It seems this visitor is no ordinary person.
"Tell them to enter."
"...They're coming in."
Upon the Saint's permission, Kelth looked past the iron bars and spoke. Though it was only a single phrase, his voice clearly betrayed the fierce emotions he was harboring.
"Yes."
Step.
The silhouette of a girl gradually emerged into the depths of Tartarus.
"Ma... Maria? Is that you, Maria?"
The visitor, a young girl, spoke with a cautious tone.
Ever as she always did, the Saint had stepped up to the iron bars, and she flinched at the sound of the voice.
The girl's appearance began to materialize in the darkness... Wait.
Why is she here? With what face? With what nerve?
"You..."
The Saint's voice trembled faintly. Sorrow, pity, grief, and longing seeped through her words.
I knew the reason.
"Hero?"
"It's been a long time, Maria."
"Yes, it has been."
"Have you been doing well?"
As she spoke, the girl glanced at the Saint and lowered her voice gloomily upon seeing the reddish-brown bandages covering the Saint's eyes.
"Looking at you, I'd say not...."
"...You don't need to feel sorry, Hero."
"B... but in the end, it's all because of me...."
"It's all right."
The Saint's voice calmed quickly. However, a strange emotion remained tightly hidden within.
"It's all in the past."
I think I know what that strange emotion is.
A grudge.
No matter how kindhearted the Saint is, and no matter how many sad and pitiful feelings she has for the Hero.
The betrayal of a comrade she trusted most is not something easily forgotten. It's on a completely different level than a betrayal from Lilith.
"Um... so... Maria. The reason I came today is...."
The Hero's voice wavered as if she were sobbing. With great difficulty, she managed to say what she had prepared.
"I'm sorry... I really wanted to tell you this...."
"Is that so."
"W... when we beat the Legion Commander, I thought there was hope! But... you saw him too! The Demon King!"
"The Demon King, you mean."
"That overwhelming presence! The red horns piercing the clouds, the mist pouring from those black eyes covering the sky! You saw it too!"
"I did."
"Ugh...! I... I'm sorry! I didn't come here to say this... I'm just making excuses again...."
Frey de Siegfried.
The eldest daughter of the Duke of Siegfried, a founding family of the Empire, and a genius who graduated second in her class at the Empire's top academy, Eden Academy.
A monster born from a combination of lifelong training as a Hero, peerless talent, excellent teachers, and the finest education.
...But in the end, she is nothing more than a loser.
Frey de Siegfried, the 'Unyielding Hero' who had led the 'Hero Party,' including the Saint, and overcome all manner of adversity.
Because in the final war, she grew terrified of the Demon King and groveled with her head in the dirt, becoming the 'Cowardly Hero.'
Having lost their center, the Continental Alliance Army crumbled and was conquered by the Demon Army one by one.
The Holy Nation resisted strongly until the very last moment, but even that failed when Holy Emperor Julius surrendered after cutting off his own arm.
Saint Maria, pushed to the brink, fought a desperate battle alone against the Demon Army for twenty days, only to be captured by the Four Great Dukes of the Demon Realm.
Consequently, she ended up just like me—a death row prisoner.
Within the overlap of these grim circumstances.
Between the Saint, who didn't abandon the continent until she lost all her power, and the Hero, who turned tail the moment she faced the Demon King.
How could such a reunion be anything but awkward?
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
"Hero."
Of course, if you weigh the cause and effect, I'm the primary enemy here. After all, I'm the one who tormented those two the most.
It was also my doing that fractured the Continental Alliance Army through strategic manipulation. The people of the continent believe a strategist named 'Beerus' was responsible.
But 'Beerus' is just one of the many masks I wear.
Then again... since no one knows I'm the Joker, does it actually matter? As long as the results are good.
"Everyone makes mistakes."
"H-huh?"
"What truly matters is reflecting on one's faults and repenting."
"But I... so many people died because of my wrong choice!"
"With a heart focused on apologizing to them, rectify everything you can now. That is the greatest atonement you can offer."
Wow, that girl is actually showing mercy even to the Hero.
Rectify everything? What utter nonsense.
It's already too late. The Demon King has occupied the continent, and the Hero Party is either dead or, like the Saint, crippled. What is there to rectify now?
Aware of this fact, the Hero replied with a sobbing voice.
"B-but... Maria..."
But her words were...
"I... I'm just so scared...?"
It was quite different from the resolve the Saint had hoped for.
"The Demon King is too strong... Neither the Tower Master nor my Master were any match for him. What could I possibly do alone...?"
"Hero. If you succumb to fear, even the possible becomes impossible."
"Maria lost too! In the end!"
"...."
"E-even the strong Maria lost... The Maria who wields the power of the Sun God ended up like this... what can a weak Hero like me do...?"
The Saint's brow furrowed. The Hero's voice was dyed with a sense of despair and defeat.
"What can someone like me possibly do!!"
Suddenly, the Hero screamed. A piercing shout that felt like it would burst eardrums filled Tartarus.
Perhaps because she let it all out, the Hero spoke as if she had suddenly snapped back to her senses.
"Ah...! I-I'm sorry! M-Maria held the line alone until the very end...! I know I have no right to say this...! But still, I just can't stop hating myself...!"
Like a lost child, the Hero's words scattered haphazardly. She sounded completely adrift.
A complex mix of emotions swirled within her voice.
"I-I shouldn't be acting like this...! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I apologize!"
The Hero slammed her head against the floor in front of the iron bars where the Saint stood. Though the Saint was blind, she seemed to grasp the situation through the voice and the vibrations on the floor.
"Hero."
"Maria... I'm so sorry..."
The Hero's voice trembled with heart-wrenching sobs.
"The Lord has given you far too cruel a trial."
"Ugh... Maria..."
"No matter how much the world hailed you as a hero... you were always just a fragile child at heart."
The Hero's voice trembles violently. As if trying to play the victim.
Toward her, the Saint reaches out an invisible hand. As if to comfort her.
"Maria... I'm sorry..."
"Do not worry. I shall bless you..."
"Fuck."
"...?"
"Mr. Demon?"
"Stop that pathetic act right now."
"Wha-what?"
"Mr. Demon? I don't understand what you mean."
"Know when to stop. Just stop."
Shaking, then gloomy, then making excuses.
Sobbing, then despairing, then trembling, then wailing.
All those emotions are conjured by the Hero using 'only her voice.'
With a grin stretching from ear to ear, a vile smile that rivals my own trademark clown's grin.
She's putting on a hell of a show.
Conveying emotion through 'voice' alone.
The sight of the Hero, acting her heart out instead of repenting.
The look in those smug eyes, gazing at the Saint—who genuinely intended to bless her—as if she were a mere worm.
"You keep saying you're sorry, so why are you grinning like an idiot?"
I don't like it. It's too, far too irritating.
The Hero's hypocrisy?
"You have an inferiority complex toward the Saint, don't you? The fact that you graduated second to her at Eden Academy still stings, right? Is that why you're doing this?"
No.
The fact that the Saint is being toyed with.
The fact that the Saint is being looked down upon.
The damn fact that the Saint is being played with by someone!
It's a little, a lot, severely, disgustingly annoying.
"W-who are you! By what right do you speak to me so rudely...!"
"Me?"
Why am I meddling for the sake of the Saint?
Why do I hate seeing her be toyed with?
"Open those damn eyes of yours wide and look closely at who I am."
Why am I stepping forward even though it's obvious the Saint will find out my identity?
It's not like the Saint and I have any particular relationship.
...Particular relationship?
We do. The Saint and I are 'prison comrades.' We're companions in Tartarus, no less. A bond unlike any other in the world.
"You don't happen to have face blindness, do you? Because that would be disappointing."
Yes, the Saint and I share a special bond. It's only natural that I'd step in for her. After all, we're very special and close.
"Who on earth are you... You, you are!!"
For the first time since entering Tartarus, the Hero shows a genuine emotion.
Deep shock washes over the Hero's face.
Right, that's the real her. A genuine intent, fundamentally different from the vile smile she wore while fake-sobbing, taking advantage of the Saint's blindness, now manifests clearly across her face.
"Joker!! Why on earth is the Northern Grand Duke of the Demon Realm in Tartarus!!"