Chapter 150

1 The Final Miracle It’s time for a story of a boy. His death was as meaningless as that of a worm—a death most pitiful, most unseemly, most cruel, and most gruesome. Ordinarily, there is no life after death. But because his soul was summoned to another world, the boy received precisely that opportunity. In truth, he had no desire to be brought back to life. Nevertheless, as soon as he was made flesh again, he was made to serve an overbearing master. That master was the very person who summoned him: the Torture Princess, Elisabeth Le Fanu. She had the pride of a wolf and was as lowly as a sow, a sinner ordered by the Church to butcher fourteen ranked demons and the people who had formed contracts with them. Once the task was complete, she herself was destined to face execution. She brought the boy back, and when all was said and done, he made the choice to continue serving her. Throughout Elisabeth Le Fanu’s bloody life, she was accompanied by a single foolish servant. The boy chose to live a life that would bring about such a tale. But the world betrayed that expectation, and the boy’s destiny was radically transformed. It’s time for a story of a hero. The world once very nearly met a tragic end. However, that seemingly immutable fate was altered by a single person. And the one who accomplished that miraculous feat was a boy who had reincarnated from another world. He got a chance at life, then had a number of experiences, some horrifying and some irreplaceable. Then after a long series of battles, he obtained a colossal amount of mana and used it to save someone precious to him. And while he was at it, he saved the world. By sacrificing himself. After burdening himself with God and Diablo, the boy fell into a deep slumber at the World’s End. Thanks to his deeds, the people of the world managed to avoid the apocalypse. The greatest good for the greatest number was, surely, the greatest outcome. One could say they lived happily ever after. As an aside, there was one little fact. Hardly any knew it, and it was of little true importance. The fact was, the boy and hero were the same person. Thus did the story of admiration and folly and love come to its end. After that, they say, everyone lived in comfort and peace forever after. “Oh, were it only that simple.” Right before Elisabeth and Alice’s blows met, someone reached out and caught them. The ensuing gale force sent the person’s tattered cloak flapping about. Their hood hung low, obscuring their face, but whoever they were, they had just caught the blades without so much as breaking a sweat. Elisabeth frowned. She could tell—if the person hadn’t stepped in, she was the one whose chest would have been gouged out. She looked at the newcomer holding the blades. They really did resemble the Butcher…except for their hands. Their hands were human. This time, she had no choice but to admit it. A hot tear casually rolled down the Torture Princess’s cheek. And with a thousand different emotions swelling up inside her, Elisabeth Le Fanu spoke. “Kaito, is that you?” The newcomer silently gave each of their blades a shove, and Elisabeth and Alice both leaped back. Upon landing, they reassumed their combat stances. The figure standing between them pulled back their hood. Now their face was plainly visible. The first thing that tumbled out of the tattered cloak was a mop of long dark hair, followed shortly by fair skin. Then came a pair of blinking eyes as tranquil as a lake shore. The figure’s hair was the color of the night sky, and their eyes were the color of bones that had been burned to ash. Elisabeth choked out a murmur. “You.” The person in the cloak was not Kaito Sena. It was, however, a woman Elisabeth knew well. The woman in question was the centerpiece of the Church’s religion and, at the moment, a fugitive. She was the savior of all creation and a sinner without peer, mother to everything and an impartial reaper. She was the person who reconstructed the world, and she was the person who had beckoned its end. After a small shake of the head, Elisabeth spoke once more. “I can hardly say I expected to see you here, Saint.” The genuine Suffering Woman returned Elisabeth’s gaze. The faintest of smiles crossed her face. Then the Saint began her gentle speech. “We meet again, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu. I don’t believe I’ve seen you since your dream. I’m sorry to have startled you somewhat, but now my wish to see you once more has finally been granted.” “I…take it that means you’ve not come as my foe?” “Much to the contrary, in fact. Through God and Diablo—two entities I once harbored within my body—I heard his voice and came to rescue you. He’s unable to come out here himself, but he was able to open a door and speak to me through it. Now I am here to deliver those words to you.” She extended one hand toward the Torture Princess. Her skin resembled freshly driven snow, and sure enough, there was no hostility in the gesture. The hatred that had once colored her laughter was now gone and forgotten. “I impart unto you A Message from Him.” Elisabeth’s eyes went wide. The crystal was farther away than the World’s End. Touching it accomplished nothing, and hearing voices from within was impossible. Yet the Saint was claiming that she had partially overcome that divide.