Chapter 7

And it went even deeper than that. The church controlled the most powerful people in the world—the heroic immortals—and their swords would be pointed at your throat. They made the most horrifying assassins, coming after you again and again, no matter how many times you killed them. There was no way the king would go against the Goddess if it meant sacrificing his life. “Uh, um, yes, just as Bishop Hube says. I admire your enthusiasm for trade, but I cannot allow you to go against the Goddess’s teachings,” stammered the king. “Absolutely. We don’t have to rely on your filthy plan to go forward, as my prodigy, the hero Arian, will be eliminating the demons,” asserted Bishop Hube. He cautioned him against stirring any unnecessary desires in the king, placing a hand on the ruler’s shoulder. “That’s that. You should give up on your venture,” said the minister, hoping the disquieting situation would be over soon. “Your Highness and noble attendees, I sincerely apologize for wasting your time with such a foolish request. Please accept the gold as an apology,” said the merchant. He brought their attention back to the gold in hopes they wouldn’t question his indiscretions further. “Hmm, you may speak with me again if you ever wish to begin trade elsewhere,” said Tortoise IV in an apologetic tone, despite what the bishop had said. The merchant gave a smile in response and turned to leave, but there was someone in the room who would not allow that. “Guards, arrest the heretic,” the Goddess’s bishop demanded coldly despite his warm smile. “To turn your back on the Goddess and consort with the evil demons—he must be an agent of the cruel and hellish Demon King.” “Bishop Hube, you’re going too far!” objected Tortoise IV, unintentionally raising his voice in response to the bishop’s insubordination. But the bishop’s smile didn’t waver. “Your Highness, I’m absolutely certain this apostate is an agent of the Demon King. They’re using magic to conceal their appearances.” “What?!” Gasps of surprise filled the chamber again for what seemed like the hundredth time today, as everyone turned to look at the merchant and his maid. Both their faces hardened in response to the bishop’s accusation. “Now, agents of the evil Demon King, reveal your true selves. Or should I do it by my own hand?” he threatened as he menacingly raised his right hand with the symbol of the Goddess. The maid had been silent until now, but she took a step forward when she saw the bishop attempt to use magic. The merchant, who was in charge, however, raised his hand to stop her. “I’d hoped to conceal this, but if you so wish,” he said, signaling to the maid with a look. The maid complied with her master’s request and broke the Illusion spell, which melted away from the merchant. And there he was—a figure with an ugly face covered in burn scars, indiscernible in age or any other facial features. “Bleurgh…” He started to speak again, ignoring the guard who’d just vomited. “These scars were given to me by a rival merchant. I normally conceal them, as they’re difficult for some to look upon.” “……” “This girl also suffered similar scars, but please don’t force her to reveal those,” requested the merchant as he prostrated himself. He was unconcerned about his own image but desperate to spare the young girl from having to unveil her disfigured face in public. The king and his ministers were not so cruel as to add insult to injury. “Manju, raise your head. It is I who should apologize,” spoke the king. “I’m forever grateful for your kindness,” said the man, lowering his head again, as the maid recast the Illusion spell and hid his scars, then turned to leave. He stopped at the door to the audience chamber and turned back to speak. “When I received these scars, I thought, Humans are far more evil and horrifying than the monsters in our legends. What do you think, bishop?” he asked, looking at Hube for a fleeting moment, then spinning and walking out the door without waiting for an answer. The king let out a sigh of relief as the tension dissolved, and the bishop continued to look as genial as always. But— “You think you can use your heretical charms to embarrass me? I’m a bishop of the Divine Goddess—!” cursed Hube in a voice so quiet no one else could hear. For just that moment, his plastered grin faded to let his black heart bleed onto the surface of his face. “Oh geez, looks like the ‘Make a Contract with Me and Become Emperor’ strategy was a big failure.” Shinichi groaned, splayed on the bed at the inn, without too much apparent disappointment. He’d been wary someone was on his tail on their journey back. Celes had returned to her brown-skinned, silver-haired self, and she quickly held her hands up to his face. “If anyone has a right to say ‘Oh geez,’ it’s me,” insisted Celes, casting a Healing spell on the facial burns Shinichi had inflicted on himself. “This came in handy, though, didn’t it?” He’d guessed they couldn’t in good conscience make the demon maid remove her illusion if he showed horrendous scars on himself. He was right. “Yes, but why are you willing to go this far?” asked Celes. Everything had gone according to plan, and, obviously, they’d gotten rid of his ability to feel pain. Even from a demon’s perspective, though, the act of burning one’s own face was a bit too extreme. “You’re not only twisted and dirty minded but also an extremely masochistic pervert. Don’t get carried away.” She spat out her insults while looking unusually angry. “Aw, Celes, were you worried about me?” mocked Shinichi. “I worry about what goes on in your head,” she retorted. As she talked, every scar on Shinichi’s face completely vanished. “I also went ahead and connected your eyebrows for you. My treat.” “Do I look like a police officer from a certain nineties anime?! Anyway, we got what we needed,” said Shinichi, rubbing between his eyebrows just in case. Smiling, he evaluated their performance again. “I think the king and his subordinates don’t necessarily hate the demons and are willing to listen. The problem is that guy, Bishop Hube.” Shinichi was surprised someone they’d passed by in the church would interrupt their grand plan in the audience chamber, but thanks to that, they now knew their enemy. “It seems the Goddess’s followers and her heroes really hate demons. I mean, the knight and his party were the same. Do you know anything about this?” asked Shinichi. “I do not. We do not hear talk about the Goddess in the demon world,” replied Celes, shaking her head. In the demon world, they didn’t really learn about the legends of the Goddess sealing the Evil God and Evil Dragon in the depths of hell. Of course, they were troubled upon hearing the humans thought of them as the kin of the Evil God and, by extension, their enemy. “Even if their stories are true, it has nothing to do with demons in the present day, right?” “It’s not very easy to convince humans with logic like that,” replied Shinichi, letting out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately for Rino, you can’t really resolve religious malice and hate just by talking to one another.” Everyone knew faith was born out of emotions, not logic. Therefore, religious followers were more likely to fall into a thought pattern of believing something without reason or proof. Sometimes, they believed in something because it served them well. Other times, they might perceive something was correct just because they believed in it. They would then begin resisting other opinions. There were more than enough instances of zealots refusing to have a conversation in Shinichi’s world. “This means we’re back to square one,” said Shinichi. He’d have to use his intellect to force the heroes to stop attacking the Demon King’s castle, returning to the original reason he’d been summoned to this world. “That guy’s voice, Bishop Hube’s, changed a tiny bit when he said, ‘My prodigy, the hero Arian.’ I wonder what he’d think if she got caught in an R-rated situation with some demons, hee-hee-hee,” he added. “I have no idea what that means, but thanks for reminding me you’re sick,” sneered Celes, insulting Shinichi and his devious smile, though she made no effort to stop him. She’d lost any residual feelings of kindness toward the Goddess’s followers, who refused to listen to others and arbitrarily decided they were evil. “Well? What do we do next?” “Next up: training!” declared Shinichi without thinking. “…Huh?” asked Celes, whose usually blank face looked a bit stupid. Shinichi must have been truly sick and twisted for enjoying that view.