Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

60 – The End of Greed

A scream filled with static never ceases.

Within the grand cathedral, where silence and peace ought to coexist,

something shatters, breaks, and snaps.

Cracked, melted, fragmented, ground, and then reassembled.

“Shall we try driving in a chisel this time?”

“N-No…!”

The rest of the word couldn’t escape.

Because before he could finish speaking, a massive chisel was hammered into bone.

Crack, something gave.

The black bones fragmented into shards.

The fiend’s teeth couldn’t meet.

Was he unable even to scream?

Yet still, he craved life.

He coveted existence itself.

And so, even unwillingly, this wretch’s body restored itself.

Skin regenerated, organs returned to their places.

Then I would tear it all away again.

Doing so created a continuous scream,

reminiscent of a recording device.

Though lacking vocal cords, the fiend’s voice

no longer yearned for life, but for death.

But the wretch’s remains refuse to heed him.

Fragmented bones continue to find their places,

and Grid’s expression sours in real-time.

“Ugh… Ugh…”

“What’s wrong? I haven’t killed you yet, as you wished.”

“Ki…Kill me. If anyone can, it’s…”

He speaks the truth.

Though the reason eludes me, I possess his power.

The Status Window, most likely, is the culprit.

So, if I were to wield this power,

I could obliterate this skeleton before me in a flash.

However.

“Why should I?”

Grid’s one remaining eye twitches at my words.

His half-broken shinbone trembles,

and his teeth chatter wildly against each other.

“Wh…Why…”

“Because I desire your continued existence.”

“….”

“Don’t even think of escaping into the sweet release of death.

You haven’t suffered nearly enough to warrant it.

Be stoned to death by the families of those you murdered.

Be executed beneath the crosses of the order you defiled.

Guilty and innocent alike will cast stones upon you,

and even your survival shall be left to their whims.”

Grid’s complexion turns a ghastly pallor at my pronouncement,

only to flush crimson as he retorts.

“I… I never did anything to—!”

“Can you swear to that…?”

“….”

The murderous intent I’d briefly unleashed fades,

and Grid, having heard everything, seems to have no rebuttal

as he lowers his head in defeat.

A sound reaches my ears, and I lean in closer,

only to discern the grinding of teeth.

“Why…I…that…”

He mutters ceaselessly, alongside the gnashing sounds.

Seeing him grinding his teeth instead of repenting,

I felt what little goodwill I held plummet.

Not that I had ever considered sparing him, even with repentance or atonement.

I press the cold steel to the wretch’s arm, him still muttering nonsense.

“…Huh?”

“Recess is over.”

I set the honed edge to bone and saw back and forth.

“Agh… aaagh!!!”

“Still had the strength to scream, I see.”

No longer the keen blade from before,

but a somewhat coarse saw-tooth now affixed.

It rasps and grinds, bone dust falling.

So fine, that powder, it seems it would take flight with the slightest breeze.

The dust scatters, and slowly, the teeth grow dull.

I pause the sawing a moment, to sharpen the blunted edge.

As if thinking this halt is his chance,

the fiend’s teeth begin to grind.

“I… I’ll talk, no, I *will* talk!”

“About what?”

“I… I’ll tell you everything you want to know, so…”

“You think there’s anything I especially *want* to know?”

My words seemed to strike him dumb for an instant,

but he latched onto me again, as if having realised something.

“In… information about the other acolytes…!”

“…”

“And… and I’ll tell you the locations of the Order’s chapters, too.”

“…How am I supposed to trust you?”

“Uh… that… that is…”

“…Just talk.”

Seeing my reaction, which didn’t seem too bad,

his eyes gleamed, as though finally given an opening.

Hope that he might survive, perhaps, had sprouted within him,

and he began to explain, earnest as could be.

Thanks to him, I now know the rough details of the Seven Deadly Sins,

the system by which the Order’s priests are ranked,

the locations of the Moon Order’s chapters hidden throughout the Empire,

and the fact that they all seek my demise.

As I frantically scribble down the tale of the fiend,

the Pope approaches from behind, and taps me on the shoulder.

“Son, wouldn’t you say that’s enough for now? Can you lend a hand outside with the cleanup?

I turn to observe his countenance.

His eyes flick back and forth between myself and the fiend before me, then

He subtly averted his gaze,

his shoes marred by the pulpy blood and a dusting of

bone fragments beneath.

Aside from the thought of his shoes being soiled,

I was unwilling to help him sort out the situation outside.

The knights and priests who’d promised support

hadn’t arrived even now that it was over.

Intent on making my reluctance clear,

I deliberately adopted a brusque tone.

“…Is there anything specific you require of me?”

“I apologize for imposing upon you. It seems I am asking too much.

But I, we…are desperately short-handed at this moment.”

“….”

“I know it’s terribly presumptuous of me…

but would you be willing to help just one more time…?”

I am unused to acts of kindness.

I’ve rarely experienced unsolicited generosity.

And requests… even rarer.

Everyone simply issued commands.

Few would lower themselves to ask me for anything.

Thus, I couldn’t refuse.

They say you learn how to decline by receiving many requests.

Besides, how could I refuse the Pope himself,

bowing his head to me and begging for my aid?

“…I understand.”

“You have my deepest gratitude…”

“…Heh.”

Grid let out a wry chuckle, watching the Pope

grasp my hand and nod, overcome with emotion.

The expression on his face, which had somehow returned,

now held a glimmer of hope.

He probably thinks he can escape more easily if I disappear.

Seeing that look on his face,

I wanted to crush his hopes, once more.

Completely and eternally.

I wanted to give the wretch, who still clung to hope, despair.

I conjured a large vat behind him,

big enough to easily hold a person.

And beneath the vat, I inscribed a magic circle.

Intricately, meticulously.

Finally, a magic circle was complete,

the lines composing it radiating a beautiful, crimson light.

“You.”

“H..huh?”

“Enter it.”

“….”

“If you prefer to die right here, you need not enter.”

As if confirming the sincerity in my words,

Grid hurriedly scrambled into the vessel.

From this moment, he would taste hell.

Whatever hell he imagined, he would witness far beyond that.

“Your Holiness, lend me your aid, won’t you.”

*

‘I’ll kill you… I absolutely will… kill you!’

Meanwhile, still not having regained his senses, Grid

remained consumed with thoughts of revenge against Jennison.

Unaware of what fate held for him from now on.

‘I’ll be certain… to tear you limb from limb.’

How long had passed?

As he continued to vow revenge, beads of sweat began to form on his skin.

For some reason, it felt as if the surrounding temperature was rising.

At first, he dismissed it as mere heat born of his rage,

but as time wore on, that explanation became impossible.

The interior of the vessel continued to heat up,

giving the sensation of being trapped in a sealed sauna.

“Hah… hah… hah… what is this…”

“Awakening now, are you?”

“Y-you… what have you done…”

“Having reconsidered…

I don’t recall ever promising to spare you, you see.”

“W-what?!”

“I’ve simply decided to kill you.”

Barely a moment passed after he felt something was amiss and tried frantically to escape.

A terrible pain shot through his hand as he gripped the wall.

A pain he had experienced several times recently.

A burning agony.

“Are you familiar with the brazen bull?”

“..What?”

“In one Western nation, they would place criminals inside a bull made of brass

and heat it until they were burned to death, or so the tale goes.”

“…Surely not.”

“I grew curious as to how long you’d last.

I’ve poked a breathing hole, so fend for yourself.”

“W-Wait, just…just a moment.”

And the presence vanished.

As if truly gone from this place.

“J-Just a moment…wait…”

No matter how he screamed, not even an answer

reached his ears.

Only the sound of something crackling,

burning away,

and Grid, who even now tried to escape,

found his attempts utterly thwarted.

The barrel he’d entered had become sealed with a barrier.

And not just any barrier.

At least a high-ranking priest, or something greater, had woven this holy protection.

No matter how hard he struggled, his depleted power

was not enough to breach the wall.

Moreover, with the black tentacles stolen by Jenison,

Grid’s power was weakened considerably, leaving him without a way out.

“Uwaaagh!!

I’ll tear…tear you to shreds!!!!”

All that remained for him was to scream.

He vomited curses from his throat.

He screamed.

He expelled the pain.

He cried out in agony.

When the temperature rose to the point that his tears evaporated,

he could no longer even lean against the wall in comfort.

Because the moment he touched the wall, his skin would adhere, flaying away.

For the same reason, he couldn’t sleep easy,

nor was there anyone to offer him food.

What would happen if all basic human needs were lost?

Or rather, if the needs existed, but were not guaranteed?

Those who had pondered this, even for a moment, would all say this:

If there were someone who couldn’t have even one basic need fulfilled,

that person would almost certainly give up on life.

Five days later, during the reconstruction of the Order,

rumors spread through the marketplace that unidentified bone dust had been found.

Greed (貪慾)

A death quite befitting one who’d lived by coveting everything that belonged to others.

At least, in the end, everything he had was taken from him.