“Um, what just happened…?” asked Shinichi, but the girls just shook their heads. “Nothing happened, this time,” Arian emphasized. “Yes, not now,” Celes echoed. “Uh, right…” Shinichi wasn’t so dense that he couldn’t piece together what had happened between the pair. All he could do was nod and quietly go along with it. The orc and minotaur came running up to the big pot, entirely unaware of the strange tension among the three. “It was delicious, moo! If I get used to food this good, I’ll never be able to go back to the demon world.” “Shinichi, that’s why you have to beat the heroes, no matter what, oink!” “Leave it to me.” As the demons beamed and went in for seconds, Shinichi smiled and nodded, renewing his vows to protect his country of jollity—which was finally starting to take shape—from the invaders that went by the name of heroes. It had been nineteen days since the army of heroes departed the Holy City, and they set up camp at the mouth of Dog Valley. As they traversed the land, more members of the clergy and monster hunters tagged along upon hearing the rumors. Hube indiscriminately granted all of them the status of hero. Their numbers had swelled to ten thousand men. “Tomorrow will mark the start of our crusade against those diabolical creatures. Rest well tonight. Your bodies must be exhausted from the long trip,” Hube announced. “““Yes, sir!””” replied the soldiers. “We cannot, however, let our guard down. The demons are not above launching an ambush in the night.” “““Yes, Cardinal Hube!””” Upon seeing the army respectfully take a knee, Hube nodded in satisfaction before retiring to his tent for the evening, followed by the mechanic footsteps of the emotionless prisoners-turned-dolls. The moment they were out of sight, the heroes released the tension in their shoulders. “Man, I was excited to come ’cause I heard I could become a hero and get famous for having defeated the demons, but…” “That cardinal-in-charge’s got those creepy guys tailing him. I don’t really get his deal.” The heroes grumbling about the uncanniness of this entire operation were the newbies, the ones who’d joined the army partway through its march. They should have been reprimanded by the clergy, since they’d been in this position since the beginning. But they didn’t step in, letting it go and adopting similarly dour expressions as the newcomers. “I’ve heard people saying he’s the second coming of Eument, but if you think about it logically…” “I thought he was thrown in jail for that scandal. Why would he be given the Goddess’s power?” “Speaking of jail, I’m pretty sure his human dolls were all prisoners in the Pit of Divine Punishment. I remember seeing some of them.” Their physical exhaustion from the long journey was chipping away at their initial fervor. And because these priests and priestesses were intimately familiar with the inner workings of the church, uncertainty and suspicion were beginning to harden in their chests. “Either way, if we defeat the Demon King tomorrow, it’ll all be over— What’s that?” “Something wrong?” “Nothing. I just thought I felt a magical current…” The middle-aged priest examined his surroundings, but he didn’t see anything suspicious in Dog Valley and his dimly lit surroundings. “You don’t think Cardinal Hube’s using Wire Tap to listen to our conversations, do you…?” “Shit, don’t say that! If it were true, we’ll be turned into one of his dolls.” “Maybe it’s a demon ambush. Well, no point sitting around speculating. Let’s look around then get some sleep.” At the suggestion of the oldest priest, the others complied, scanning around. It never occurred to them that it might be a maid flying high in the sky, cloaked in darkness with an Illusion spell and using Wire Tap to listen to them. While the army of heroes was wrestling with their doubts, Hube was alone in his tent with a merry smile playing on his lips. “Soon. Soon, I will destroy that bastard heretic… Heh-heh-heh!” He imagined the despair on the boy’s face as he tore the Goddess’s symbol from the redhead, stripping her of her status and shredding her to bits. Or maybe he should do it the other way. He’d put the boy through a horrific torture fest and force her to cry and beg for forgiveness. That might be more fun. “Ah, I can’t wait!” Hube stared lovingly at the two symbols branded on the backs of both hands, filled with fiendish amusement—a far cry from the usual appearance of a man of the cloth. Those symbols had given him the right to grant the status of hero and to take it away—and a portion of the Goddess’s power, the magical strength of a hundred bishops. While this was unheard of, it still wasn’t enough to defeat the Demon King single-handedly. And there was the additional problem of depleting one’s supply. That’s why he’d taken great pains to gather ten thousand heroes. “My Divine Goddess Elazonia, I will ensure your holy will is done. You have saved me, and my life is yours. I will sacrifice it as many times as necessary!” He would die and die again if it meant weakening the Demon King. He’d die until that behemoth fell before the heroes’ blades, and then he’d wipe the demons and that heretical boy from this world. Their military strategy was to wage an infinite war. There was no reason they would lose. All the heroes in the army believed this. But they didn’t realize that the first heroes to go against the Demon King in Ruzal’s party had used the same strategy. They didn’t realize that that was why the Twisted Advisor had been summoned in the first place. On the morning of the twentieth day, the dim sky was still cloaked in mist when the earth shook violently, and the ten thousand warriors leaped up from their slumber. “Wh-what’s happening?!” They heard a heavy thud as something enormous approached through the fog. “I-is that—?!” They stood in utter disbelief as it emerged from the mist—a figure so massive they had to crane their necks to look at its face. Its Herculean arms and legs were thicker than tree trunks. Its blue skin was harder than steel, and horns sprouted from either side of its head before curving up toward the sky and ending in sharp points. As if to cockily suggest any actual armor was unnecessary, he wore only a loincloth and cloak. All this gave the imposing specimen the appearance of the physical manifestation of raw, furious force. But there was something oddly marvelous about the way his muscles curved around his monstrous body. “It’s the Demon King…!” The heroes stood frozen in front of his overwhelming presence, but Blue Demon King Ludabite made no attempts at a surprise attack. Instead, he stood tall and folded his arms, as if to say, Get a move on. Prepare yourselves and come at me. The heroes scrambled to arm themselves and assume battle formation. Hube and his doll squad swiftly appeared at the army’s fore. “Well, well, well. Very kind of you to come out to be killed. I was worried you might have fled back to the demon world.” “You must be their leader.” The Demon King didn’t respond to his provocation. Then, bizarrely, he quietly addressed the ten thousand heroes. “Flee, soldiers. We broke through the earth’s surface to eat well. That was the nature of our mission. We have no desire to fight you.” “…Eat well?” This came as a disappointment to the heroes. Weren’t the demons trying their hand at world domination or destroying the human race? Hube roared back at the King in an attempt to cut over these thoughts. “Silence, you foul demon! You diabolical beast, standing in the way of her teachings! Your countless acts of evil by deploying that boy will never be forgiven—even if you were to take your own life!” “…That boy?” murmured some of the heroes with mounting uncertainty as they looked at the young cardinal. They weren’t aware of the Twisted Advisor. In order to brush aside the doubts, Hube waged war. “We will not lower ourselves to speak with these corrupt beasts! Prove yourselves in battle as heroes of the Goddess!” “““Uh, YEEEEAH!””” The heroes managed to shake off their doubts, roaring into a battle cry as they charged the Demon King. “Fools… Arrows of light, pierce their hearts, Homing Rain,” the Demon King chanted, pitching an orb of light into the sky. Exploding into shards of light, they continued to shatter until they formed three thousand magic arrows, capable of piercing through steel. “AH?!” The army let out a scream of terror as they saw the thousands of arrows aiming toward their hearts, but— “Lady Elazonia, please grant these soldiers your protection, Shield of Protection.” Hube formed a massive shield of light over the heroes, repelling the arrows. “Hmm, not bad,” the Demon King noted with a bit of respect, knowing that each individual arrow was weak, but there was strength in numbers: Repelling three thousand arrows would take a considerable amount of power. “But I can tell this strength isn’t all you.” Furrowing his brow, the Demon King could sense traces of an alternative source to Hube’s magic—as if he was drawing power from a magic conductor. How boring. That said, he had no intensions of holding back. “Pierce them, Land Bite.” Sharp earthen teeth erupted from the ground, snapping up at the feet of the heroes—where the Protection spell was the least effective. Piercing through their soles to their thighs, tearing all the way up to their stomachs, thirty heroes in the front of the charge were brutally gutted in the blink of an eye. “Agh! Gah!” “Gack!” At the heartrending sight of their peers hacking up blood and sinew, the heroes behind them stopped dead in their tracks. But Hube wasted no time to scold them, raising his voice an octave. “Have no fear! We’ve been granted the Goddess’s protection! We are the undying heroes!” “Y-yeah, that’s right!” Catching a glimpse of her symbol etched into the backs of their hands, the heroes gathered their courage, steadying themselves before charging toward the Demon King for the second time. “Let’s go!” “Scorching flames ignite, Fireball!” chanted twenty magic users as the fire blasted in front of them, smothering the Demon King out of sight. He waved his hand. “Reflection Wind.” A powerful gale burst forward, flinging back the balls of fire. “Huh… Gyah!” With the heroes just managing to regroup post-incantation, they weren’t able to dodge the attack, burning straight to a crisp from their own spell. To the comfort of the other heroes, however, they witnessed these corpses vanish from the field. “Don’t be afraid! We can’t die!” “Yeah! We’re undefeatable!” Even without a physical body, they were consoled by the fact that they’d be resurrected at a nearby church—no matter what happened to them. Witnessing this miracle in the flesh reaffirmed that, encouraging them to toss aside their baseless fears of death. “Onward, slay him!” “Don’t falter! Even if your attacks are ineffective! We’ll keep doing this until the enemy falls!” The horde surged forward, pushing through even as their spells backfired, their swords snapped, and their peers were cleft in two. “…Maggots.” As the Demon King flung them off his body, his eyes blazed scornfully. He’d always revered brave warriors, undaunted by the prospect of death, even the weak ones. After all, there was a time when he’d been nothing more than a weed, before he’d become the all-powerful Blue Demon King. It took trial and error, defeat after defeat. But he’d trained hard, fought harder, trained, fought, trained, fought—until he made it to this present moment. Of course, he’d been granted a massive advantage. He had a natural-born knack for it. It would be impossible for any human to push themselves hard enough, hacking up blood from their strenuous efforts, to scratch him. And yet, there were some who continued to strive forward, refusing to fold under the pressure and pain—the ones that the Blue Demon King himself would acknowledge as strongmen. Their species or social status didn’t matter. The Demon King revered them regardless. But the heroes here were nothing more than a swarm of giant ants. He felt nothing short of disgust toward them. They’re not strongmen. They’re barely even alive. A fearless warrior wasn’t the same as a warrior without fear of death. The former was a true warrior, absolutely petrified of death, who actively chose not to yield to their anxieties—to protect things worth fighting for. A real hero held his sword in shaking hands, planted his feet, and refused to budge. But these “heroes” in front of him were cowards. They were so scared of “death” that they retreated, becoming the “undead.” “So irritating.” The Demon King squished one of the hero’s heads in with his fist. A strongman shrouded in the possibility of death. The cowards who ran away from it. Their battle raged on for the course of an hour. At the start of the battle, the army had ten thousand men—by now, it’d been cut in half. And yet, there wasn’t so much as a little scrape on the Demon King, though his breaths turned into pants, more laborious than before. Hube smirked to himself. I thought we’d need to repeat this two or three times, but if things go well, we could kill him off today. He’d used up almost all of his divine gifts, the Goddess’s magic, but he knew he had just about enough to cast a high-level spell—Holy Torrent. He could end this battle right here, right now, once the five thousand heroes wore the fiend down, chipping away at his power bit by bit. When all his men were finally torn apart, he’d unleash this spell. “This is the moment! This is when we destroy the evil Demon King!” “““Aaaah—!””” They’d lost count of their attacks, but they obligingly charged again. They had no way of knowing they were pawns—to be used, abused, and tossed away. But their advances were cut short by the boisterous sound of laughter echoing across the length of the entire battlefield. “Heh-heh-heh, ha-ha-ha, MWA-HA-HA-HA!” “That voice!” It was a superb three-level laugh, signaling the arrival of a villain. Hube’s eyes narrowed. “You heretical bastard! Show yourself!” “Heh-heh-heh, I wasn’t hiding to begin with,” rained down a derisive voice from the sky above. They looked up to find a boy in a white mask with a painted smile, floating in the air along with a dark, elven maid against the backdrop of blue. Hube glared up at them with a fearless grin. “Ha! Ha-ha-ha, you might have come to save your master from his peril, but you’re too late! I’m going to have you suffer the most gruesome death, along with the Demon King! I’ll personally see to it! And have no fear—she’ll be sent to hell with you!” “Cardinal Hube…?” As the cardinal switched out of his usual demeanor, waves of perplexity washed over the army. But the boy in the white mask chuckled again, expecting his dramatic speech. “Ha-ha-ha, you’re calling me the faithful advisor to His Highness—no, to the Blue Demon King? It’s all an act.” “What?!” the heroes yelped back. He drew out a second mask, layering it over the first: pitch-black with a single red eye in the center. Even without any context, it looked diabolical. “I’m a faithful servant of Elazok, the God of Evil. I’m their unholy priest, known as the True One!” With that, the boy in the black mask—Shinichi—let out another depraved laugh. “I’ve never heard of Elazok!” “The name sounds a bit like Elazonia. Is there a connection?” “Wait, is that the Evil God that Lady Elazonia sealed away…?” “What, does that mean the sealed Evil God has returned?!” In a panic, the heroes took this humongous lie at face value, amusing Shinichi to the point that he had to hold in his laughter behind his mask. “Heh-heh-heh. Just as they say: ‘He who believes in the existence of god doesn’t doubt the existence of evil.’ Amazing.” “Is this really an appropriate time to laugh?” Celes poked Shinichi from behind, jerking her head toward Hube. “You heretic! Stop your pathetic jokes and attempts to deceive us!” Hube refused to believe him, especially because he’d already been burned once before by Shinichi’s tricks. But that didn’t stop the heroes from milling around, completely baffled. Shinichi’s appearance was that ghastly and hellish. And he wasn’t about to take any chances and let that confusion abate. He laid out his next move. “Heh-heh-heh, you don’t believe me? Well then, how about I show you the power of Elazok?” Celes recited an incantation. “Appear before us, Apport.” It was a fairly low-level spell that teleported something to your location. But in this case, this “something” was completely out of left field. “Wh-what is that?!” The space in front of the heroes cracked in two, as if ripping it by the seams, and let a colossal silhouette slowly crawl out. Its hind legs were large enough to crush a two-story house; countless broken swords sprouted from its curling tail. Its entire body was encased in hard obsidian. On its back were two mysterious pipes where wings should have been. Its maw was large enough to swallow a human whole, flashing fangs stained red as if they’d been dyed in blood. Its sinister eyes were the same crimson color, and it looked down at the heroes, insect-size compared with this mammoth. It was unmistakable. It was the most powerful of monsters, the killer of gods. “A dragon?!” The heroes let out shrieks of terror. The dragon mockingly let out an earth-shattering roar. The men had no way of telling that Shinichi was behind this whole thing, modifying his voice with magic. “This is insane! The Evil Dragon has been brought to life…?!” “Heh-heh-heh. Unfortunately, this little guy isn’t our lord, the Black Dragon.” “What?!” The army let out another yelp for the umpteenth time. Shinichi explained with dramatic flair. “This is one of the Four Unholy Dragons who answer to the Black Dragon, meet the Black Boulder Dragon, Hellsaur!” “Black Boulder Dragon, Hellsaur?!” Its name was somewhere between half-assed and childish. It low-key deserved to be the butt of some jokes, but creativity in this world could use a bit more work. “Heh-heh-heh, Hellsaur is the smallest of the Four Unholy Dragons, but he’s plenty to kill you fools—along with the Demon King in his weakened state.” “Wha—? Kill the Demon King?!” They croaked back. Even Hube was bug-eyed this time. “Yes. My orders are to eliminate Elazok’s sworn enemy, the Blue Demon King Ludabite.” “What do you mean? Aren’t the demons working for the Evil God?!” “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Elazok and the demons have never worked together.” “Does that mean the holy book is a lie…?” “You see, Elazok had been kind over the years, overlooking the demons if they chose to stay in their lane, tucked away in their corner of the demon world. But what do you know? Ludabite has been attempting to form relations with the humans to feed his daughter some good food. As a faithful follower of Elazok, I cannot forgive this! As the divine will of Elazok is to eliminate all of humankind!” Shinichi pointed angrily at the Demon King. “Wh-what the hell…?” The heroes were grasping at straws, but even that was too much. They were completely bewildered. Hube tried to dispel their confusion by shouting over him. “You cannot fool us by your meaningless lies, you idolater!” Well, he was right about that. Elazok was nothing more than a figment of Shinichi’s imagination. But Hube’s men were already growing so suspicious of him that they doubted his proclamation. Plus, his opponent was willing to go real low. “Heh-heh-heh. Hube, you’ve already done so well. No need to put on your act any longer.” “What are you saying?!” Hube screeched. “What does he mean? Does Cardinal Hube know that unholy priest?” To the befuddled lot, Shinichi cooed, babying them as he lied through his teeth. “Heh-heh-heh, it was just a simple trick. Hube is another unholy priest for Elazok!” “““Whaaat—?!””” “He made you into fake heroes and dragged you here so that you would sacrifice yourselves and weaken the Demon King!” “““Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat—?!””” The heroes were so disoriented by this news that they could only shout back. Their jaws went slack in shock, locked open as if they were scarecrows. Hube denied Shinichi’s claims. “Don’t take in these absurd claims! My power is holy, granted to me by the Goddess Elazonia!” “We know. That was your role. But there really isn’t any need to hide it any longer, Hube. Your fake heroes have served their purpose well.” “You bastard! How low will you go…? Listen up, all. You cannot let yourself be deceived by this heretic’s lies!” But his actions so far had been too suspicious to allow him to convince them of his innocence now. “I thought it was weird that a criminal would be chosen as the second coming of Pope Eument—you know, as the messiah.” “And what he did to those emotionless doll people? The Goddess would never approve of that.” “It was all to mislead us. How unforgivable!” They weren’t idiots. That wasn’t the driving force behind their flip-flopping ideas about Hube. It was more convenient to see Hube as an agent of the Evil God than to face their own jealously toward him for rising into power. It was easier than addressing their envy of his position as cardinal, backed by the Goddess’s strength. But that also meant that they weren’t so foolish as to miss the holes in his argument. “W-wait. But we’re heroes, aren’t we?!” “Yeah, only the Goddess can grant the gift of infinite resurrection!” A hero raised his hand to display the symbol of the Goddess—proof that Hube couldn’t be an agent of evil. Shinichi had predicted this argument would come up. “Heh-heh-heh, you really think Elazok couldn’t imitate this ‘Goddess-exclusive’ right?” “What?!” “Sure, this marks your status as heroes. If you die, you’ll be resurrected at a nearby church. It’ll work once—maybe twice. But the third time? The fourth?” “What, so is it really true that we’re fake heroes…?” Even the most resistant of the bunch started to waver in their conviction. From the looks of it, it seemed that their fallen soldiers were magically transported to a church for resurrection. There were a few men mixed in the bunch that were so mistrusting of their newfound status that they secretly killed themselves just to test it out. But there wasn’t anyone crazy enough to test just how many times they could be brought back to life. To top it off, no one had any definitive proof of Hube’s innocence. The heroes regarded him with mounting cynicism. “How long are you just going to stand there?! Quick! Kill the heretic!” But Hube’s desperate instructions grounded their suspicions even further. If anyone had considered the situation more rationally, they would have noticed a few holes in Shinichi’s claims and actions: If his real goal was the defeat of the Demon King—plus the heroes—wouldn’t it have been better for him to wait longer before appearing when they were both considerably weakened? And was it necessary to reveal Hube’s “true” nature if they were working as a team? A devilish whisper ran through the crowd, preventing them from thinking about it further. “—He’s a traitor.” A voice buzzed in their ears, a voice they didn’t recognize. “—A fake messiah.” It was Shinichi. He’d altered its sound, and Celes used her magic to project his voice into the crowd. “—An agent of evil.” It was a piss-poor strategy. It could be seen through, if only one thought it through. “—We can’t forgive him.” But these so-called heroes were cowards, terrified of death. They’d been pulled out of the peak of their battle, just when things were on their side, and tossed callously into this state of skepticism. It was easier to go along with someone else’s claims than think for themselves. “—Kill him.” “Traitor!” bellowed one particularly hot-blooded fool, letting out a battle cry as he charged toward Hube. “—gh!” Hube instantly raised his hand and cast a Force spell without bothering with an incantation. Thanks to the Goddess’s divine power, his invisible bullet was far stronger than usual, tearing through the dissenter’s body with one critical hit. “Ah…” Hube realized his mistake too late. No sooner had the corpse disappeared than the remaining heroes rushed him with the intent to kill. “This traitor’s done for!” “He was an unholy priest from the beginning! He lied to us!” Eyes bloodshot with rage, they brandished their weapons. They were at the point of no return. Words wouldn’t be enough to placate them. Hube gave an order to his faithful, will-less dolls. “You, slow them down!” “……” Wordlessly, the ex-prisoners trudged forward, facing the oncoming heroes head-on. Hube turned his tail and sprinted. “You can’t run, you traitor!” “You! You friggin’ heretic—!” As the heroes pursued him from behind, Hube looked up, spitting curses at the boy observing the scene from the sky. With his remaining magic, Hube used his Physical Enchantment to strengthen his body as he ran. As Shinichi looked at the pathetic sight, he smirked behind his mask. “What an idiot. He could have proved his innocence by sacrificing himself, or he could have ignored me and continued attacking. There were so many ways he could’ve broken down my plan.” But he hadn’t. That was because Hube had a secret phobia, scarring the back of his heart. It was so far in there that he didn’t even realize it was there—a fear of Shinichi. He was so terrified that he’d never win against this demonic boy, no matter what Hube threw at him. That boy had robbed him of everything. Hube’s wrath was another way for him to project his fears of Shinichi instead of facing or processing them head-on. “Heh-heh-heh. Guess he’s also one of those scaredy-cats that chose to run from death.” “You’re the sickest person in the world,” Celes spat, as she looked down at the hellish landscape of the former prisoners and heroes killing one another in a brutal bloodbath. Shinichi cracked his signature smile. “What’re you talking about? We’re just getting started.” With that, they landed on the head of the Black Boulder Dragon—patiently waiting for its turn. Well, it was actually a dragon-shaped golem that the demons had worked hard to build. Shinichi opened the hatch on its head, leading to the cockpit and engine section where the massive magic conductor, the Tears of Matteral, was gleaming brightly. “You coming, Celes?” “I’m not particularly interested in reaching climax in a golem.” “Someone’s in a good mood,” he noted, relieved that the dark elf could still find it in herself to make these dirty jokes before turning to address the heroes. They’d just about finished off the former prisoners. “Mwa-ha-hah, you fools! I will not allow you to pursue my companion, Hube. You die here!” As Shinichi boomed, Celes got the Black Boulder Dragon to move by using the magic in the Tears of Matteral. As the heroes looked on in confusion, the two pipes on the dragon’s back leveled onto them—two cannons carved from obsidian and strengthened with a Protection spell. Then— “Fire!” With an ear-piercing roar, each cannon spewed out two thousand tiny iron balls—no more than half an inch in diameter each. Gunpowder had been packed into this cannon for this very moment. Together, the cannons launched four thousand bullets. The iron rain—call it buckshot—turned two hundred heroes into mincemeat in one fatal blow. “Wh-what the hell was that sound?!” “I didn’t feel any magic! How’d they do that without it?!” The heroes found themselves devolving into panicked chaos yet again. Shinichi gave Celes her order. “Do it.” “Understood,” she replied. “Black Dragon who rules below the surface, the embodiment of strength, grant me a sliver of your breath, scorch your enemies until no ash remains—” She conjured the largest powerful image to her mind’s capacity, drawing on the magic of tens of thousands of people stored in the massive magic conductor. With that, she modified reality to match her imagination, clicking it in place with an incantation. “—False Dragon Breath!” Her hands were positioned to make it appear as if the black flames flared out of the mouth of the dragon—laying waste to wide swaths of land in a deadly blast. The dirt was peeled from the earth; chunks of mountains went missing; human bodies were torn apart down to their very atoms. By the time the torrent of black flame subsided, the army of 4,700 heroes had been cut in half. “Wow…” Even though he’d been the one to order it, a cold sweat streaked down Shinichi’s brow at the horrific sight. There are no words to describe the utter despair the heroes felt at witnessing such destructive power. “It’s over… We can’t win, even if we can’t die, even if we keep coming back forever…” Their swords fell from their trembling hands, and their knees gave out. It didn’t matter if their corporeal body wouldn’t die: A body with a crushed soul was no different from a ragdoll. But the unholy priest mercilessly continued his attack against the heroes—who were practically living corpses at this point. “Reload,” ordered Shinichi. “Yes, sir. Apport.” With that, Celes magically transferred the buckshot stored by the magic conductor into the large cannons. Once they were locked and reloaded, she aimed them at the men—they were as good as dead. “Fire.” The horrendous sound ripped through the air again, and four thousand bullets whizzed toward the heroes, but— “Fortress,” chanted the Demon King. Just in the nick of time, a wall of light appeared in front of the heroes, protecting them from the pelts of iron. “Why…?” started one of the heroes. “Geez, you maggots. You’re not even worth killing. You call yourselves heroes?!” he boomed, berating the dumbfounded bunch with the full extent of his wrath. “Why aren’t you fighting? Why aren’t you struggling to live? Gather your courage and face your enemies regardless of their strength… Isn’t that what a hero is?!” “—Ngh?!” As they were reprimanded by their enemy, they lifted their heads, as if their eyes had been opened for the first time. But they still lacked the energy to get to their feet. “But we’re no match for—” “Please don’t give up!” An energetic voice suddenly rang across the battlefield, cutting through the despair. The heroes turned around in surprise to see a figure with flowing hair as red as the rising sun, wearing a crimson scarf that was fluttering in the wind. The physical embodiment of justice. Her name was— “Arian the Red?!” “I heard she’d disappeared after Hube sexually harassed her. What’s she doing here?!” asked one of the heroes. “Wait, she’s not alone!” Behind her peeked out a girl with flaxen hair in the robes of a priestess, who chanted a prayer of mercy for the heroes. “Please heal their wounds, Area Healing.” A warm magical light trickled down on them, washing over them and healing their wounds. It was as if it lifted their broken spirits. “That’s Saint Sanctina!” “Why is she here?!” There were some rumors that had been drifting around here and there that the Saint had become involved with a young singer, leading her astray and causing her to turn her back on the church. With this information, the heroes weren’t sure what to make of this series of events. But Arian shouted across the field, brushing away their last remaining doubts. “You may have heard tales that I’d disappeared or that Sanctina betrayed the church. They’re all lies to mislead the enemy… That’s right, it was all to defeat that pawn of the Evil God!” “Wh-what?!” With extra-dramatic flair, she put her all into her performance, and the crowd believed her instantly. “You may reprimand us later for deceiving you. But right now, I’m asking you to gather your courage and stand up,” Sanctina cooed. “Lady Sanctina!” Her eyes welled with tears—as expected from years and years of make-believe, playing her saintly part. She’d brushed up on her acting skills. The heroes were moved by this scene and rose on their shaking legs at her beckoning.
Chapter 44
28 min read