His fear of Davey seemed to have seared into his very bones as Viscount Rutismar let out a shrill scream. "Ahhh! I said to kill! I told them to kill, I swear! Kill all the sick! If so many die, Sullivan's position is bound to be severely shaken! Of course, there would be a chance to dethrone him! So... so..."

"So? Did you discover the disease early and leave it untreated?"

"Yes, that's right! I left it as it was, allowing the disease to spread!"

"I see. Then I show up and suddenly start treating the disease, and you lose your shit."

Upon hearing Davey's words, Viscount Rutismar wailed as if pleading, tears welling up in his eyes. "P-Please, spare me! I was wrong! I won't do it again..."

Crack!

Suddenly, a heavy impact echoed, and Viscount Rutismar’s knees buckled beneath him. Aina had swiftly broken his joints, causing him to collapse onto the ground.

Looking down at the man convulsing as if shocked, Davey said slowly, "Stop making excuses."

Sensing the chill in Davey’s voice, Viscount Rutismar trembled violently.

"So?"

"T-That's all! That's all I swear! Please, spare me! I won't do it again!"

Davey remained silent at Viscount Rutismar’s fervent pleading. Then, Davey opened his mouth again. "What's the usual protocol in the Pallan Empire for such cases?"

"He's a bastard who attempted to kill countless innocents. Sometimes I'm so thankful to be the Crown Prince because I have the power to burn these devilish creatures." A figure slowly emerged from the darkness as the voice echoed.

"Gasp! Your Highness Crown Prince Sullivan!"

"Do you know where you are, Viscount Rutismar?"

"T-That is..."

"The underground prison of the Pallan Empire. You all plotted something equivalent to treason," Sullivan said calmly as he approached Viscount Rutismar. Then, without hesitation, he drew his sword and stabbed it through the man’s shoulder. "You tried to kill countless innocent people for your own gain."

"Ahhhh!"

"Anything else to say?"

When furious, Sullivan was composed and rational. But he was just as cold. While he adhered to a line in front of Illyna, he showed no mercy to those who crossed it when she was not around.

"Ahhh!!!"

Sullivan yelled as he twisted the blade further into Viscount Rutismar’s flesh. "Families who were dreaming of a future with their children were destroyed because of you bastards. Young men who were struggling to care for their sick mothers died because of you. Because of you!"

"..." Silently watching the enraged Sullivan, Davey quietly retreated.

"Because of you... I've had to stain my hands with the blood of my own kin once again. And also, because of you, the Pallan Empire could not save countless pitiful souls." Speaking monotonously, Sullivan made a calm declaration. "I swear, I won't kill you easily."

When Sullivan drew his dagger, Davey restrained him and said, "Go. I'll handle the corruption within the empire."

Sullivan paused and looked at Davey. "These guys..."

"Aren't you the priority? If I were the Twelfth Prince, I would have quickly fled from the Capital as soon as things turned out this way."

At Davey’s words, Sullivan gritted his teeth. "I have embarrassed myself."

"Leave it to me and go. I happen to have some things to say to these guys too."

Since assuming the role of the Demon Lord, a gradual change had begun to manifest. The anguished cries of the victims, distinct from those of necromancers, echoed in Davey's ears. Their desperate pleas for vengeance reverberated, threatening to inflict insomnia upon him. The throne of the Demon Lord bestowed immense power upon Davey, but in return, it demanded responsibility. Ultimately, Sullivan turned his back on the nobles, including Viscont Rutismar.

"I sincerely apologize for meddling in this matter. As the Crown Prince of the empire, I have displayed a disgraceful side of myself."

In response to Sullivan’s words, Davey simply waved his hand dismissively. Then, Sullivan quietly passed by Davey and vanished into the darkness.

"Well, now that nobody will hinder what I am about to do," Davey dryly remarked, his smirk widening as he gazed at them. "In life, it is natural to harbor some greed and act selfishly. I have recently reconsidered this, but who am I to judge and punish you?"

Viscount Rutismar lifted the corner of his mouth, as if finding a glimmer of hope.

"I will grant you forgiveness."

At Davey's words, Viscount Rutismar nodded vigorously, as if the end of hope was now a golden dawn.

"But..."

Wooong!

A black magic circle materialized beneath the feet of the four nobles, including Viscount Rutismar, causing their expressions to contort.

"But will they grant you forgiveness?"

The void that had been created. The arbiters that had been summoned. The merciless power of punishment designed for a sole purpose.

Observing them squirming above the black magic circle, Davey nonchalantly grasped the horn of Perserque to his head. "I am not the Saint you all perceive. I am the Demon Lord, resolute in tormenting you to the depths of Hell. Perhaps you are unaware, but I have been seated upon the throne of the Demon Lord for quite some time now. I may not comprehend intricate matters, but I can handle this."

[Hand of Resentment]

‘Now, move. Souls filled with resentment. I will aid your revenge.’

Crack!

The white hands that emerged from the magic circle were grotesque, adorned with sharp, blood-red thorns on each knuckle and palm.

Thwump!

"Krrrrrrgh! Krrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!!!"

Countless hands reached out and pierced through their bodies, beginning to tear them apart. Flesh was shredded, and eyeballs popped out.

Without a word, Davey pushed Perserque back into the pocket and covered Rinne's eyes. However, Rinne gently parted his fingers with her own slender ones and continued to watch the gruesome spectacle.

"Even if you survive, you won't be able to live, and even if you die, you won't be able to die."

The magic of the undead. The indescribable pain of decaying flesh and rot. The bodies of the nobles, torn apart and subdued by thorned hands, slowly started to decay. They all released desperate screams.

"Ur... Urghhhhh!!!"

They began to dissolve like something soft and squishy. Meanwhile, they incessantly muttered something.

"Do you desire death? Why? I told you, I forgave you. But will these hands forgive you? These hands, conjured by summoning the vengeful spirits slain by you."

The horrific screams of the nobles, who had caused countless deaths for their own power, echoed in Davey's ears as if they were etched from the very beginning to the bitter end.

* * *

Rumors began circulating throughout the continent. They revolved around the Coalition for Disease Control's successful handling of the highly dangerous epidemic that had plagued the land.

With a mortality rate of nearly 100%, the dreadful disease had stirred public opinion and instilled anxiety among the continent's inhabitants. This calamity had unfolded on the heels of a massive war.

However, as news of the disease's eradication spread, trade routes that had been frozen solid began to reopen, and the continent seemed to regain its vibrancy once more.

Naturally, the council members, who had been the backbone of the Coalition for Disease Control, recognized the individual who had made the greatest contribution to this cause. They unanimously praised this exceptional person, asserting that without their efforts, so many lives could not have been saved in such a short span of time.

As rumors rapidly spread among merchants, guards, and bards, the reputation of a single individual soared to extraordinary heights. Being hailed as a Saint proved to be a remarkable blessing, exceeding all expectations. Conversely, as the prestige of the Saint reached unprecedented levels, the media began exerting unbearable pressure on Lena, who was soon to become the Holy Maiden. After all, the sole distinction between a Saint and a Saintess was their gender.

Davey appeared to possess overwhelming abilities, power, and wealth—he seemed to lack nothing. Due to his status as a Saint, many people believed that his elevated position was a testament to the divine love he received.

In the eyes of the people, the appearance of a Saint or Saintess signified an individual who could dominate their era, despite the stark contrast with reality. There was a growing curiosity about the extent of power Lena, who would soon be conferred as the Saintess, would display. In fact, some nations attempted to establish rapport with her before she officially assumed the role.

"Uh... My head hurts," Lena murmured with a gloomy expression as she glanced at a book.

Alice furrowed her brows upon seeing her. "You've been causing a commotion for days without getting any sleep. And now your head hurts? Really? Should I make it actually hurt?"

Alice grabbed the thick corner of a Bible and began swinging it around, gritting her teeth.

Startled, Lena recoiled and vigorously shook her head. "I'll read the book!"

Alice sighed as she checked on the condition of the Saintess candidate, Lena. It had only been a week, which was not a long time at all. The thought of Alice being unable to sleep for days as she dealt with this troublesome fanatic was infuriating. The lack of sleep and the stress had caused her skin to break out, and her hair was in terrible condition.

Nevertheless, she had never allowed herself to fall behind in terms of appearance. For a clergywoman, maintaining one's appearance was considered a sacred act. Neglecting the physical attributes that God had bestowed upon oneself was seen as disrespectful. The pressure from Prince Davey was intense, but the main reason for her current deterioration was the relentless handling of the religious fanatic group.

"Archbishop Alice... Here's the report."

"Thank you."

"Who dares to cause more trouble when I can't even sleep? These troublesome individuals..." Alice received the document and let out a heavy sigh, her hand tightly gripping the paper.

The report includes the following: (1) Western Sangtroelle, a minor territory. A village under the fireline. Captured five girls suspected of witchcraft. After interrogation, extracted confessions and executed their entire family as a public example. (2) Eastern Ashiria Kingdom, in the territory of Fort. The third daughter of the lord exhibited unusual power. Not magic, but the ability to levitate objects in thin air, which was deemed as a dangerous witch's power. She was detained and questioned but died before confession. (3) In the Northern continent of the East, a self-proclaimed celestial maiden has appeared, suspected to be a heretic. Multiple inquisitors have been dispatched. (4) According to revelations, it is suspected that there are demons and vampires within the Heins territory of the Rowane Kingdom. Investigations are not easy due to the authority of the saint, but we continue undercover investigations under the pretext of acting in the name of God.

They continued to cause trouble under the banner of God's revelation and disregarded the orders from the religious organization's headquarters. They ran amok while keeping their main base hidden. With God's revelation as their vague justification, they believed they had nothing to fear. However, there was no longer any reason for the Holy Empire to tolerate their actions.

"Priest Murius, please send a message to the Pope. I will go see him."

"What should I convey to him?"

"Do the scriptures instruct us to coddle a mad dog with love? No, a mad dog needs to be tamed, even if it requires force. You understand, don't you? We must crush these fanatics by waging a holy war."

Since internal conflicts were not classified as a war, it would not violate the continental peace treaty. The Heresy Tribunal was, after all, a part of the Valchas Empire.

"A holy war?! But..."

"If they provoke Prince Davey once more, it will lead to catastrophe! That's why we must crush them before they cause any further trouble! Do you understand?! We cannot allow these troublesome individuals, who fail to grasp the gravity of the situation, to recklessly jeopardize everyone's lives!"

‘There are people you can provoke and people you shouldn't.’

Alice had always believed that one should absolutely avoid the worst-case scenarios. However, she did not know what was happening at that very moment. Prince Davey was...

"…is this really the key to the dimensional gate?"

Davey twisted the golden key he held in the air, creating a crack, all the while sporting an expression of disbelief.

chapter-369
  • 14
  • 16
  • 18
  • 20
  • 22
  • 24
  • 26
  • 28
Select Lang
Tap the screen to use reading tools Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.