Chapter 128

“M-may we…?” Lira asks timidly. No matter how she thinks about it, it’s clear they’ll be in the way, but the young man nods. “Yes, go ahead. They’re strong, you know, the demon king’s guards. However, it may be a bit overstimulating.” “What do you mean by—?” Before she can finish the question, a severed arm falls right in front of her. It’s been torn from her uncle’s shoulder, and something unidentifiable—nerves? muscles?—squirms in the open wound. Lira immediately clings to her sister, too shocked to even scream. Viola is holding her breath, a deathly shade of white. The man watches them with a smile, obviously enjoying the moment. “Young ladies. If you’d like to escape the demon king’s clutches, this is your final chance.” “We won’t run!” Lira answers reflexively, then bites her lip. Viola squeezes her hand. She keeps her eyes on the battle, but her trembling lips move. “Th-this…this is something we have to do…!” “That’s good to hear.” The spiteful young man’s smile has a hint of challenge in it. Their opponent easily dodges the bullets. How far demon snuff spikes human athletic abilities greatly depends on the individual, but Count Revanche is sturdy enough to land a jump from the third floor without getting injured and fast enough to dodge bullets. All things considered, he must have an impressively high tolerance. Even with Walt and Kyle attacking as ateam, he’s evading without trouble. “Wow. He might have made a better Nameless Priest than a count, huh.” “Compatibility matters, but the fact that Revanche county’s demon snuff is more powerful than the conventional type is a big part of it.” “That’s news to me. So Viola must really have a talent for that sort of thing— Whoops.” Count Revanche had uprooted one of the garden trees and hurled it at them. When they nimbly evade it, he tsks in frustration. “Viola—is—mine.” His body has ballooned to twice its size, but he’s still intelligent and rational enough to talk. Most people would be reduced to howling and shrieking by now. “That woman—will be—my wife.” Count Revanche is even wearing a vulgar leer. “Lira is mine, too. I played with them, by turns, every night. I trained them.” His attempts to provoke them are incredibly transparent. Yes, this new demon snuff is pretty awful. “Don’t let him get to you,” he warns Kyle. “What would I get angry about?” Kyle’s eyes are steady, and his tone icy. In fact, Walt’s own thoughts are terribly cold and calculating, and he feels as if he might turn into a weapon powered entirely by an irresistible need to kill this man. “Are you jealous? Do you envy me? My nieces are beauties, after all! If it was just for one night, I wouldn’t mind loaning them out to you!” “The pathetic delusions of a middle-aged man. There’s no point even listening.” It’s exactly as his partner says. They launch themselves off the ground in the exact same moment, heading straight for their enemy. As if mocking them, Count Revanche leaps with a power that seems impossible for something his size, then clings to the wall of the blazing mansion. Walt’s bullet follows him, but he catches it bare-handed. “I’ve heard of you before. The demon king’s guards. Nameless Priests. But that means nothing. You’re no match for me now!” The crushed bullet falls from the count’s hand: demon guns won’t be enough. He roars with laughter. “Did you really think obsolete pieces of trash like you could defeat me?!” Get a load of this guy. Smiling quietly, Walt takes aim with his gun again. “I wouldn’t get too full of yourself.” “What are you—?” A shadow falls over Count Revanche’s smile. Kyle has reached down and grabbed his arm; he twists it in an impossible direction and easily rips it off. As the limb flies away, Count Revanche screams. “Muh, my, my aaaaarm!” “Don’t lose your head over a little thing like being dismembered. You can shut off your sense of pain,” Kyle says coolly. Then he lands a roundhouse kick squarely on the man’s neck. “Go pick up your arm yourself.” “What are you doing, training the new guy?” Walt laughs. Count Revanche is flying straight at him. Once he’s in range, Walt grabs the man’s remaining arm, ripping it off and slamming the count into the ground. Now armless and lying on his back, the count can’t even get up. Planting a foot on his chest, Walt shoves the muzzle of his gun into his mouth. “Don’t worry, this isn’t gonna hurt.” “Zdop, zdop id—” “I mean, you’ll still die, but whatever. —Bang!” He pretends to pull the trigger, and Count Revanche promptly passes out, his eyes rolling back in his head. Walt straightens up, shaking spit off the barrel of his gun. Rejoining him, Kyle looks disappointed. “He fainted? That didn’t take much.” “He’s an amateur who went up against two pros. You’re being too hard on him.” “Too hard? On a man who boasted that he could fight the demon king? He should learn how to regenerate before saying things like that.” After that harsh evaluation, Kyle turns on his heel, notices Viola, and immediately freezes up. They’d acted before considering whether such a violent spectacle would be too hair-raising for sheltered young noblewomen. It would be perfectly understandable if the girls found them terrifying. This is their job, and this is how strong they are. Walt, who’s already mentally prepared himself for this a bit more than Kyle has, goes out of his way to give Lira a cheerful wave. “Hi there. I’m glad you’re safe.” “S-safe… Y-yes. And you, um… You’re also…safe?” Her voice is trembling, but she’s showing concern for Walt’s well-being. He didn’t expect that, and it stops him in his tracks. Beside the pallid Lira, Viola nods over and over again, despite the fact that she’s also shaking. Her face is even paler than her sister’s. “I’m…glad, I’m so glad…you’re safe… You’re…” Viola swoons, and Lira hurries to support her. Then the twins crouch down, holding each other’s hands and huddling close, as if they’re praying. “I’m so glad…” They’re too scared to stand. But above it all, they’re happy Walt and Kyle are safe. Elefas, who’s been watching over the girls from a short distance away, shrugs. “They said they wouldn’t go anywhere. This isn’t my fault.” “…You let them watch on purpose, didn’t you?” Kyle glares at him. Elefas smiles back. “When you put it that way, it sounds as if I’m a terrible person.” “Are you saying you’re not? I swear…” Both girls are completely unable to stand. Just when Walt thinks they’ll have to carry them if they want to get moving anytime soon—Count Revanche’s severed arm suddenly moves. Lira and Viola start to shake uncontrollably, and Elefas’s eyes narrow. On reflex, Walt and Kyle turn back, leveling their guns. Count Revanche has reconnected his arms using something resembling tentacles, and now he gets to his feet, swaying. His arms are still broken, and the motion looks uncanny. “Now look what you did! You taught him how to regenerate!” “I didn’t teach him anything!” The man’s eyes roll this way and that, the whites showing. Then they flip back to focus on Walt and Kyle. The corners of his foaming mouth rise in a smirk. “Y, y-y-y-yOu, ObSOlete, anTIQuEs—!” He’s already doubled in size and keeps expanding as if trying to match the size of his reattached arms. The effects of the demon snuff have started to get out of control. Clicking his tongue in irritation at the growing shape, Walt yells over his shoulder, “Elefas, take those two and go!” “Seal the perimeter; we’ll keep him pinned down!” “Haaah. I could, I suppose, but…” “Why are you acting so laid-back?!” “Well, look.” Elefas jerks his chin up. Walt, who’s just about ready to rip the mage a new one, peers upward, and both he and Kyle freeze. Count Revanche’s swollen figure is now the same height as the mansion’s second story. Yet even higher than that, a shadow floats above the man’s head. “I’ll kill you! Anyone who gets in my way! Even if it’s the demon king!” “Is that right? Well, I for one am getting tired of this.” The man’s eyes roll to look above him, but by then, it’s already over. The toes of the demon king’s shoes come down on his head, and Count Revanche’s enormous body sinks to the ground. When Claude’s cloak swirls, the figure vanishes. He’s probably sent it away somewhere. “You were taking too long,” Claude says, with an expression that makes it seem like he’s simply floated down to open ground without anything in his way. The terror has disappeared so completely, it almost seems like it was an illusion all along. Both Lira and Viola just stand there, stunned and gaping after seeing firsthand that true terror can’t even be perceived. Will Count Revanche become the demons’ plaything, or has he been imprisoned somewhere? It all depends on the demon king’s mood. If that isn’t terror, what is? Of course, the treatment Walt, Kyle, and the rest of them will receive is also subject to the whims of the smiling demon king. “So? Where are the women who’ve led my precious Walt and Kyle astray?” They’ve reached their limit. Before the demon king’s eyes can find them, without so much as a scream, Lira and Viola faint. “You really are identical,” the emperor says the moment Lira and Viola enter the parlor. He sounds impressed. The empress is sitting beside him on the sofa. With a smile, she gestures to the seats opposite them. “Please have a seat, both of you. This isn’t an official audience, so be at ease. There’s no need for formal greetings, either. Did the dresses fit you properly?” “Y-yes. Thank you very much.” The empress’s gentle gaze doesn’t waver; it had been the same when Lira was rude to her at the ball. However, a glance at those eyes makes it clear that that isn’t all there is to her. They can’t afford to be careless. I must protect my sister. Lira and Viola slept for a full day. When they awoke at the imperial castle, they were promptly given a meal, medical treatment, and a hot bath. The empress’s ladies-in-waiting tossed them both into a spacious tub, then washed them until they glowed. They knew the ladies-in-waiting were outstanding from their skill, and from the fact that the sight of Lira’s scars didn’t so much as slow them down. Around the time the women started applying moisturizing toner and lotion, the sisters realized they were being treated as guests instead of criminals and began to feel bewildered. However, Lira suspected she knew why. It was the demon snuff and antidote her sister made. The mansion had burned to the ground, so the only recipes that remained were the ones in her sister’s head and the copies Lira hid outside the mansion. Even without talking it over, she knew her sister was probably thinking the same thing. When she saw the dresses and accessories that were provided for them, she was sure of it: They were being prepared for an audience with the emperor. They had no right to refuse, of course. Not that they had any reason to, either. They might not be free, but their uncle was no longer a threat, and they were being treated as guests— Even if nobody said so, they knew that they were being cared for as special guests. Still, since they didn’t know what the emperor was thinking or what he planned to do with them, it was only natural for them to prepare for the worst. Lira knew nothing about the present situation, not even what had really happened to their uncle. If Walt were here, she might not have felt quite so nervous, but she knew she didn’t have the right to expect that from him: He wasn’t here, and that was that. And why would he be? Once the suspicions against her had been confirmed and she’d been arrested, his job was over. Next to her, Viola glances around the room, then lowers her eyes. However, she quickly raises her head and stands tall. “Where would you like us to begin?” “I don’t particularly care,” the emperor says shortly. Lira and Viola blink at him, and the empress looks exasperated. “Master Claude. Don’t be spiteful.” “I meant every word.”