Meanwhile, some time earlier, while Seiichi and the others were still exploring the dungeon to help Helen train her skills…
Just as Lucius had feared, the Cult of the Wicked One had already taken control of the Wailing Land.
Deep beneath the sun-scorched expanse of the Wailing Land, two Apostles of the Cult of the Wicked One stood over a spread of parchment, quietly exchanging words.
“So it’s true,” one murmured, eyes scanning the desolate plain. “This land really does possess a power that strengthens monsters.”
“Of course it does,” the other replied with a thin smile. “It should, considering this is the place where the Demon King himself was sealed.”
He turned his gaze toward the gaping maw that scarred the earth before them: a vast, black pit that looked deep enough to swallow the world whole. The air above it shimmered with heat and menace, and strange runic symbols had been etched into the cracked ground around it, forming an intricate circle that pulsed faintly with otherworldly energy.
“Still,” the first Apostle said with a quiet snort, “the demonfolk really are fools. One of their own betrayed them, and now their king’s resting place, this sacred ground, belongs to us.”
“Don’t mock them,” the other replied with a cold chuckle. “They are but lesser beings, unworthy even of the Wicked One’s blessing. Reaching this place alone would have been far beyond their capabilities.”
“I suppose that’s true,” the first admitted. “In that sense, we should thank the hero who sealed the Demon King here in the first place. The only real downside is how close this site is to the Demon Kingdom.”
“Downside?” His companion laughed. “No, that’s perfect. To have their king so near and yet forever beyond reach. That bitterness, that helpless rage… all of it feeds our master.”
He wasn’t wrong. The dungeon where Routier’s father, the former Demon King, had been sealed lay just beyond the borders of the Demon Kingdom itself. But the path leading there teemed with powerful monsters. Even the mightiest of the Demon Lord’s army—Zolua, Zeros, and Jade among them—had never been able to approach it safely.
For generations, the demons had done nothing but despair from afar. And that despair was precisely what made the place so enticing to the Cult.
Thanks to the betrayal of a high-ranking defector within the Demon Kingdom, the Cult of the Wicked One had easily infiltrated demon territory and reached the Wailing Land without resistance.
And for those bearing the Wicked One’s blessing, the journey had been almost effortless. The divine corruption that clung to them repelled the monsters along their path. It was proof enough of how immense that power was.
“Soon,” one Apostle whispered, his voice trembling with fanatic joy, “our master’s resurrection will be upon us.”
“Yes,” his comrade breathed, eyes gleaming with fervor. “When that day comes, this world shall fall beneath His dominion.”
A third voice cut through their fevered reverence, low and calm yet heavy with command.
“That is why this place,” the newcomer said, stepping from the shadows at the edge of the circle, “is of utmost importance.”
The air around them seemed to darken in response.
“W–What?! L–Lord Yutis!”
The Apostles immediately dropped to their knees, bowing their heads low. The one who had appeared so suddenly before them was none other than Yutis the Omnipresent, one of the Divine Apostles of the Cult of the Wicked One, a being who had received not merely the god’s blessing, but His favor.
Behind him stood another figure, one whose presence seemed wholly out of place in such a desolate wasteland.
The man’s skin was a deep bronze, his black hair unkempt and windswept, his golden eyes gleaming like a predator’s beneath half-lidded lashes. With his hands shoved into the pockets of a worn leather jacket, he took in the barren surroundings with a lazy glance before finally turning to Yutis, brows furrowing in mild irritation.
“So… let me get this straight,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of amused disbelief. “You want me to guard this place?”
“Yes,” Yutis replied simply.
The man snorted. “C’mon, Yutis. There’s nothing here. You drag me all the way out to this wasteland for what, exactly? My power’s wasted in a dump like this.”
Yutis’s expression didn’t waver. “Don’t sell yourself short. Having you—the Resonant, Vitor—watch over this site is assurance enough.”
Vitor, “the Resonant,” tilted his head, golden eyes narrowing. “And remind me again why this place even needs guarding? Nobody’s gonna come for it. Hell, nobody could even if they wanted to.”
“Ordinarily, yes,” Yutis agreed. “But lately, I find it… difficult to be so optimistic.”
“Huh?” Vitor arched a brow. “I’ve heard that old bastard Nightmare’s been toying around in the Kaizell Empire, pumping out those ‘Transcendants’ of his for fun, but aside from that? Who’s left that could even reach this place?”
Yutis’s gaze darkened. “Have you forgotten? Three of our Apostles have already been eliminated. And not by soldiers of the Kaizell Empire.”
Vitor blinked, his smirk fading. “Then go after whoever did it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”
Yutis’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, a flicker of genuine frustration crossed his face. “If only it were that simple.”
“Wait—” Vitor straightened, suddenly serious. “Don’t tell me your power doesn’t work on them?”
Yutis’s silence was answer enough. His lips twisted into a grimace of humiliation. “It’s… exceedingly vexing.”
Watching that rare display of emotion, Vitor exhaled a low whistle and muttered, “Well, damn. If it’s enough to get under your skin, this might actually get interesting.” He leaned forward, golden eyes narrowing in disbelief. “So… you’re telling me your power didn’t work? That’s hard to believe. You can see the past and future of us—of every Divine Apostle, can’t you?”
Yutis inclined his head slightly. “Yes.”
“Then you’re not weakened, are you? I mean, even I’m not that easy to read. And that bastard Suredeath—you can even see his future, can’t you? The guy erased every other possibility and even slaughtered his own past.”
Yutis gave a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Indeed, his past is… annihilated beyond view. But the future always shifts. If one observes closely enough, there will always exist a single world line where it can be glimpsed. I must admit, though, it is not a future I care to visit myself.”
Vitor barked a laugh, the sound echoing across the barren plain. “Well, yeah! If he wipes out the whole timeline, there’s not much left to see, is there?” But his amusement faded quickly, and his expression turned serious again. “So, I just need to guard this place, right?”
“Precisely,” Yutis said. “Our master’s resurrection is nearly upon us. But even when He returns, His strength will not yet be whole. To restore it, we must harvest negative emotions from every corner of this world.”
“That part’s nothing new,” Vitor muttered. “But why this dump specifically?”
“This land carries the power to enhance monsters,” Yutis explained, his tone as calm and measured as ever. “And deep within lies the sealed Demon King. With any suitable vessel, we can force his body and soul together again. The result will be a formidable pawn under our control. A servant forged from the Demon King’s flesh and spirit will not fall easily.”
Vitor’s smirk returned, darker now. “And what happens to the Demon King himself?”
Yutis answered without hesitation. “He dies, of course. His consciousness would only be an obstacle. What we need are his remains—body and soul alike.”
He spoke the words as casually as if he were discussing the weather. Vitor chuckled, a low, wicked sound curling from his throat.
“Yeah. That tracks.”
“I’m glad we understand each other.” Yutis nodded with satisfaction, the faintest glint of superiority in his gaze. “Then I’ll take my leave. I trust you’ll handle the defense of this site.”
“Yeah, yeah. Leave it to me,” Vitor said, waving a lazy hand. “Not that anyone’s stupid enough to come here anyway.”
“Perhaps not,” Yutis replied. Then, his voice lowered slightly as his eyes flicked toward the Apostles still standing stiffly nearby. “In any case, do your jobs without troubling the Resonant.”
“Y-Yes, Lord Yutis!” they stammered in unison.
With that, Yutis gave a satisfied nod and vanished, his form dissolving into the heat-distorted air.
Vitor watched him go, then turned to the two trembling Apostles. “All right, you heard the man. Get back to work. Do what you always do.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
One of them hesitated. “Um… Lord Vitor, what will you be doing?”
Vitor grinned, stretching his arms over his head. “Me? I’m gonna sleep.”
And with that, he simply dropped to the ground, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes as if the world’s fate weren’t hanging in the balance.
He didn’t know it then, but that would be the last rest he would ever take.