Ch.42Chapter 42. Cherish Your Connections.

Demon Lord.

From before entering this world, an absolute being who has demonstrated its power and existence across multiple dimensions.

The Demon Lord’s Army, as the name suggests, is a force that serves the Demon Lord, and the Four Heavenly Kings refer to the core executives who have led the army since its establishment.

“Those four have only shown themselves publicly once… when the Demon Lord’s Army crossed the dimensional barrier.”

Phobia, realizing that one of the Four Heavenly Kings was before him, began to recall a story he had heard before.

“That battle ended in an overwhelming victory for the Demon Lord’s Army, but I heard there were still significant casualties on the Demon Tribe’s side. From the moment someone’s music began to echo across the battlefield, both demons and humans lost their sanity and began killing everything in sight.”

Music that infects all listeners with madness regardless of allegiance, causing them to kill each other.

Just looking at the tragedy that remained afterward, one could immediately understand how dangerous she was.

“…Making not just enemies but allies go mad too. That’s not something a sane person would do.”

Yes, she was different from the other Four Heavenly Kings.

While others might simply be described as ‘strong and cruel,’ she was a ‘calamity’ in herself—capable of driving mad any sentient being within range of her sound.

“Fuhuhu.”

Yet despite his heightened wariness, she merely let out a quiet laugh in front of him.

“What’s so funny?”

“I can’t help but laugh. Based on just one rumor you’ve heard, you’re so cautious against me, a mere humble jester…”

“…You can say that after what you just did here?”

She had driven even fellow demons mad, causing them to destroy each other.

“Yes, believe it or not, I’m merely the weakest among the Four Heavenly Kings. My rank as second-in-command is only because I served the Demon Lord before the army was established…”

Yet she continued speaking without concern, smiling all the while.

There was no hint of any intention to deceive her opponent.

“A jester on the battlefield is absurd to begin with, isn’t it?”

Demons are beings faithful to their desires from birth.

So Mephisto doesn’t particularly care about her position or status.

Her only purpose is to make her lord smile as a jester, and her own strength or achievements have always been outside her interest.

“…You talk so casually after causing all this.”

“Someone who isn’t a demon like you wouldn’t understand. The feelings with which I travel…”

-Tririring~♬

The lute strings in her hand are plucked, echoing quietly across the scene of tragedy.

After a passionate moment passes, everything sinks into heaviness.

“I merely travel and collect stories.”

-Tiring~♪

“I simply paid attention to scenes of bubbling desire I encountered during my travels. Knowing that desire is the source of the most interesting stories…”

-Tririring~♬

“…Hoping that the final stories written by those about to depart would be more passionate and beautiful.”

Poetry played lightly.

She felt no guilt whatsoever about her actions, to the extent that she expressed her intentions this way.

After all, she was merely amplifying situations she encountered, intensifying them.

“Did you get what you wanted by doing that?”

-Whoosh.

A cold wind began to blow through the dark forest.

“…No, sadly. This level wouldn’t be enough to please my lord, I think.”

“Then you intend to repeat such acts until you’re satisfied?”

-Crash!!

The cold wind gradually transformed into a snowstorm, highlighting the presence of the one wielding this power.

It was the blessing of the Spirit King.

A symbol of the contract between one who bears the duty of protecting nature and a being that forms the order of this world.

“If so, will you stop me?”

“Of course.”

Even he might not be enough to face this monster, but Phobia was prepared to die nonetheless.

Though not of the same kind that burned his homeland, she too was a being who committed massacres without guilt for her own purposes.

If he didn’t stop her here, she might return as an even greater disaster someday.

“Regardless of your intentions, if you attempt anything more, I won’t stand idle. For my pride and my kin…!”

“…How brave you are.”

The mad jester who encountered such a being.

She threw her lute to the ground and spread both arms.

“Let me honor that courage with a modest tribute.”

“What…?”

“Come, kill me.”

In that moment when his killing intent faltered at her unexpectedly dignified attitude.

But she remained confident.

Without exerting any magical power, she approached within striking distance and exposed her neck.

“Are you trying to deceive me?”

“Do I look like I’m playing tricks? To someone like you who could react instantly if there were any signs?”

Indeed, she showed no fighting spirit.

Truly.

As if she had resolved to offer her neck right here.

“…Mr. Phobia. As you know, I’ve traveled many worlds following the Demon Lord, and destroyed them. The more pride the Demon Lord took in it, the more joyfully I pledged my loyalty.”

Despite his suspicion, she casually explained her intentions.

Recalling the days when he took her hand when she was nothing but a street beggar, and her rise from street thug to ruler of the battlefield.

Reminiscing about those glorious days when he became the ruler of one world, and, still unsatisfied, moved on to new worlds.

“But the joy only lasted at first. Intoxicated with the glory of victory, he sought more valuable things, even crossing dimensions… but even that became repetitive, and at some point, he only felt boredom.”

Even the most intense desires fade with time.

The Demon Lord was no exception to this rule, and at some point, his unfulfilled desires left him feeling only tedium.

To please her lord who had lost his smile, she focused solely on traveling the worlds the Demon Lord’s Army invaded, collecting stories.

“Can you imagine what it means for a jester who has lived only for her lord’s smile to be consumed by the mission of making a lord who has lost his smile laugh again?”

But the Demon Lord doesn’t smile.

No matter what performance she gives, he doesn’t smile. Not for intricate tricks, not for music.

“They say demons won’t refuse loyalty, plunder, or submission for the sake of desire… but if I determine I cannot realize my desire, I lose the will to live.”

Yet because she still longed for the days spent with him, she continued her meaningless travels.

Dragging along a heart worn down to nothing…

Preparing in the deepest corner of her heart for the ‘time of rest’ that would someday come.

“…Would you believe me if I said that moment has finally come now?”

She didn’t care how that rest would come or by whose hand.

She only wished for her breath to end now.

Because she realized she could no longer enjoy even the most stimulating performances, not even with a fake smile.

“…Mephisto Rage.”

Phobia could guess that this was no lie.

Demons are beings who live faithfully to their desires.

If what she was saying now were a lie, he would have noticed the stirring of desire behind it.

“If you’ve truly lost your will to fight, I will kill you here.”

But having abandoned even hiding her true feelings,

Her face, facing her final moments, looked somewhat peaceful.

“I too have bloodied my hands many times, so I won’t condemn what you’ve done. I simply want to eliminate the possibility of danger to my faction from your continued existence…”

Facing such a jester, Phobia simply pronounced his sentence dispassionately.

Without hatred or sympathy.

With only the determination to erase someone who interfered with the responsibility he bore.

“You truly don’t regret this choice?”

Still concerned she might change her mind, he demanded confirmation, and she closed her eyes while keeping her arms spread.

“Not anymore. If it were just a moment ago, perhaps…”

One shining leaf that caught her eye during her long journey.

Though it remained in her memory even now, she regretted her foolishness in dismissing it as insignificant.

“…Then there’s no need to prolong this.”

As the demon who felt neither guilt nor love toward others offered her neck,

The judge who had calmed even the cold wind aimed his claw-like talons at her and pronounced his sentence.

“Farewell, Mephisto Rage.”

Her eyes closed to the sound of air being cut.

In the darkness that followed, she tried to recall someone who remained in her memory with her last consciousness.

‘….Hyoseong.’

Despite the long years spent with the Demon Lord, at this moment, a man’s face came to mind.

Though the time spent with him was very short and insignificant, she thought the smile she wore before him was sincere, not fake.

Because he made her feel so at ease.

Because she felt her empty heart gradually becoming excited.

‘Why do I keep wanting to see you?’

So if there really is an afterlife.

She hoped she would be allowed to meet him there, since she couldn’t see him again in this world.

-Thud!!

With a thunderous sound, her body was knocked to the ground by an impact.

But she didn’t feel the pain of her body being torn apart alive.

The front paws missed and struck a nearby tree, and her body, which had moved out of range, was now cradled in someone’s arms who had suddenly appeared…

“Wh-what…?”

Who on earth.

One step forward, and she could have ended her empty journey that she had finally resolved to abandon.

“…Meril.”

Her resentment toward him.

Faded away as she heard the voice tickling her ears at this moment.

“Merilyn… sir…”

A familiar…

No, an unforgettable voice.

Though they had parted only briefly, even that short time was enough to make her forget what she had faced.

“Hyo-seong?”

“Thank… goodness.”

Labored breathing and a blood-covered body.

Despite his appearance, battered with countless impacts and not a single spot unharmed, his face showed relief upon seeing her.

As if to show that she wasn’t the only one tormented by anxiety about never seeing each other again.

“Yes, really, glad, you’re, safe…”

After confirming her survival, the man collapsed from exhaustion.

Feeling his weight, Mephisto realized that her hands were already wrapped around his back.

“Hyoseong.”

He’s alive.

The sensation felt in these hands.

The pulse and warmth from him prove it.

“Hyoseong… you’re… alive…”

Even in the moment facing her end, she hadn’t forgotten.

The meeting she had dismissed as trivial had miraculously found her in this moment.

-Boom!!

But the situation didn’t allow her to indulge in relief.

The judge, realizing his previous attack had missed, now turned his gaze toward the demon embracing the uninvited guest.

“…Human.”

The field commander of the Anti-Human Alliance.

A being who, true to the name of his faction, regarded humans as absolute enemies.

“Did that man save you?”

He began to sharpen his massive claws, gradually aiming his killing intent at the man.

‘No.’

She felt urgency wash over her as she faced this.

She didn’t know why.

But because the one she had carelessly let go had come back to her.

‘Not this person. Anyone but him…’

A fierce aura.

As Phobia’s body shrank from the hostility that Mephisto herself wasn’t aware of.

He tried to emit cold energy again, but even that subsided as soon as he faced her expression.

What on earth—until just now, her eyes had shown resignation without attachment to her life.

What meaning did that man hold for a demon who found even the madness of armies boring, to make her eyes flash like that?

“…I’ll stop.”

Having soon understood the meaning, Phobia drew his own conclusion and withdrew his power.

And turned his back on the spot.

He exposed his back without hesitation to someone who might kill him.

“What do you mean by stopping…?”

“I said fighting a full-scale battle with one of the Four Heavenly Kings isn’t worth it. You might have been an easy opponent before, but not now.”

A sudden change in attitude.

To the jester who held her breath, Phobia quietly replied.

“If I charge in, you’ll pour everything into protecting that man. Am I wrong?”

Flinch.

The hand covering his body trembled.

Probably a reaction she herself wasn’t aware of.

Having realized that whatever the circumstances, an ‘impossible thing’ had happened, he withdrew his interest from her without lingering attachment.

“Be thankful you’re heterosexual. If the one you fell for had been a female like yourself, I would have charged in prepared to die.”

“F-fell for? What are you saying? What do you mean by…!”

“Take it to mean cherish the connection that brought you to this moment.”

Yes, in his voice disappearing into the darkness at this moment.

There existed something that could be called ‘expectation,’ however faint.

“And if that’s sincere, prove it.”

“That even you demons who live crazed with desire can love someone like us beasts.”

-Whoosh.

Phobia Homer disappeared beyond the forest with the cold wind.

As even his shadow vanished from sight, the pressure that had weighed heavily on the space evaporated like a lie.

“What, are you saying.”

But what happened here had already happened.

As the cold wind brushed against her skin, Mephisto looked down at the man in her arms and placed her hand on his chest.

“What on earth are you saying?”

Feeling the quiet beating that proved he was alive.

-Thump, thump!

And feeling.

The emotion she thought had been dormant all this time, welling up just from feeling that heartbeat.