The Villain's Second Time

Chapter 28

Splat-!

Through the fingers gripping the pocket knife, I vividly feel the soft flesh. Something sticky settles on the gloves I’m wearing.

Gurgling, blood seeps from Retavis’s mouth. It drips down the back of my hand, covered in white gloves.

Red blood always intoxicates my mind. Every sense in my body awakens as if struck by lightning.

"Guh... uh... ugh...."

While conducting a show, the way to know if it’s successful or not is to observe the audience’s reaction.

There are two types of audience reactions to a successful show. Either the audience goes wild, screaming, or.

"Haha, opening your mouth wide and letting out a dazed moan? You must have enjoyed my show, right?"

The audience becomes completely immersed in the show, staring blankly and uttering faint sounds.

"Ugh... huu, huuuh...."

Ah, is it because I’m covering his mouth right now? Doesn’t matter. Controlling and handling the audience is the basic qualification of a 'veteran magician' or a 'great director.'

Squish-!

"Ouch! You’re trying to counterattack even after your throat’s been pierced? As expected of a demon! Truly a race that thrives on willpower and tenacity!"

"Ugh... ughhh....!"

Unable to articulate his words clearly, Retavis clenched his jaw. Since my hand was inside his mouth, he was trying to bite off my wrist, the connecting point.

A good judgment. There’s no way the teeth of a demon, capable of crushing rocks, couldn’t sever the wrist of a lesser demon.

Although he’s lost two body parts he absolutely shouldn’t have, there’s nothing a person facing death wouldn’t do.

"Kuaaaaaah!!"

Retavis, exerting extreme biting force, tried to cut through my wrist.

Crunch-.

But.

"Feels good, like a massage. I’ve been feeling some stiffness in my wrist muscles lately, and now it’s all relieved in an instant."

"Uh, ugh...?"

"Ah, why isn’t it cutting, you ask?"

A veteran magician is someone who prepares for all possibilities.

Retavis, whose desperate counterattack failed, widened his eyes in panic and looked up at me. I waved my left hand, which wasn’t holding the pocket knife, in front of his eyes. My left hand was covered in a pristine white glove I had worn since leaving the mansion.

"See this? Hehe."

"Guh......."

"It looks like just an ordinary white glove, right? Actually! It is just an ordinary white glove! Except for the fact that the thread used to weave it was pulled from the cocoon of the Spider King Arachne!"

The Spider King Arachne. The ruler of the Demon Beast Forest, one of the Five Kings, Arachne stands shoulder to shoulder with Eagle King Horus and Dragon King Endros as an absolute powerhouse.

Naturally, the spider silk spun by Arachne herself is anything but ordinary. It’s tougher than adamantium and doesn’t tear or scratch under any attack.

It doesn’t absorb blood-like impurities, maintaining its pure white color, completely blocks the wearer’s energy from leaking out, and fully absorbs external shocks. It even gives the wearer a vivid sensation as if they weren’t wearing gloves, making it my most cherished magical tool in my past life.

You might wonder why I called it ordinary. I understand. But what’s ordinary is subjective. Whether it’s Arachne’s gloves or anything else, if I say it’s ordinary, then it is.

"Your teeth must be hurting by now, right? Your jaw’s not even moving."

"Ugh... ughhh....!"

Splat-! Crunch-!

Suddenly, Retavis let out a scream. Not a desperate cry for strength, but a scream of pain. I had pulled the pocket knife out from inside his throat and began slashing the warm surroundings with my hand.

The uvula, esophagus, vocal cords, arteries. The soft, fleshy mechanisms made of blood, flesh, and tissue scattered under my hand. The mechanisms that made up the machine called Retavis gradually disintegrated because of me, the driver.

Slice-.

"......!.........!!"

I found a large blood vessel, as thick as a tendon. Curiosity is hard to resist, so I slashed it in one stroke, causing a fountain of blood to gush from Retavis’s nose and mouth.

Ah, it was an artery. Imagining the pain he must be feeling makes me wince. It’s too stimulating for a weak-stomached demon like me.

"Ack, sister. Let’s act a bit more cleanly. You’re dripping blood all over my clothes."

"Guh... ugh... ughhh...."

"Ah, why sister? You don’t have them anymore, right? Surely you’re not thinking you’re still a male because there’s a pillar left?"

Even after that, I kept slashing at things I couldn’t see, but Retavis only showed violent reactions without completely dying. Demons have the tenacity of cockroaches.

He probably won’t die easily unless I properly cut his throat.

Hmm... Just slashing inside his body is a bit monotonous.

It’s a stimulating sight, no doubt. Cruel enough to excite even me, who’s done almost every grotesque act imaginable.

But, something feels lacking.

I know the reason. The reason why I find this slaughter scene boring.

"It’s not fun."

"Guh...."

"When preparing fish, if it’s not a flapping live fish, there’s no satisfaction in handling it. That’s exactly how I feel right now."

"Ugh... ugh... ah...."

"Whether you’ve accepted death or given up, there’s no reaction. It’s too boring. How is this any different from dissecting a corpse?"

Is there no way to make killing more enjoyable? Something that would intensely stimulate my interest?

It’s a very difficult and complex problem. To make a toy that’s lost its appeal interesting again.

But who am I? I’m a wanderer who seeks out riddles. The kind of guy who welcomes challenges. Finding answers that exist somewhere is easier for me than breathing.

"......Kuaaaaah!"

Just then, Retavis, who had been pretending to be resigned, suddenly stomped the ground.

Raising his upper body, Retavis thrust his mouth even deeper. Doing so would allow the pocket knife to penetrate his internal organs, but he was willing to take such a risk.

Swish-!

Crunch-!

I quickly pulled my hand out, leaving the dagger behind.

That was close. A fraction of a second later, and my arm would have been severed. I was somewhat interested in living like a pirate captain with a hook, but for a magician, hands are life.

As his life flashed before his eyes, Retavis, standing at the brink of the River of Three Crossings, squeezed out every ounce of strength to find a way to survive. The desperate plan he came up with was to bite off my ungloved forearm.

It was all or nothing. Retavis’s plan succeeded splendidly, and I threw the pocket knife into his body before pulling my hand out.

He’ll feel the pain of his insides tearing with every move, but it’s better than dying helplessly. Retavis used his head well.

"Kuhak! Cough! Ugh...."

Holding his freed throat with one hand, Retavis glared at me fiercely.

What now? I’ve lost my magical tool.

And there’s no 'assistant' here either.

Out of habit, I extended my left hand forward and moved my right hand to my pocket. The left hand distracts, buying time to prepare magic, while the right hand finds the solution during that time.

Click-.

Something hard touched my fingertips. A piece of metal, 12 centimeters long and 7 centimeters wide, shaped like two rods attached together.

Seriously, this won’t help at all in this situation. Who would’ve thought he’d swallow the pocket knife? His willpower is impressive.

Thud-!

Suddenly, Retavis, who had been gasping for breath while clutching his throat, lunged at me.

"Kuaaaaaah!!"

From the roar he let out, I could feel how desperate Retavis was right now. Retavis was gathering every last bit of his strength to move his limbs and pounce on me.

"Kuaaaaaah! Ugh! Ughhh!"

"...This might be a bit dangerous. It’s good that things are getting interesting, but this is a bit too thrilling, don’t you think...?"

With blood flowing outside his vessels and his skin turning red, Retavis tried to press down on me from above. His height, almost twice mine, made this strategy overwhelming.

As expected, demons are an incredible race. Their vitality is so tenacious. Already, the area was soaked with the blood Retavis had shed. If it were a human, they would’ve died five or six times by now.

Whoosh-!

Seeing Retavis’s shadow looming over me, I quickly pulled something out of my pocket and threw it.

A solid object with angular edges. My latest magical tool, a long rod with a slightly shorter rod attached vertically, was none other than the rosary left by the saint.

First, I needed to buy time. Since it was an item left by the saint, I had to handle it carefully, but it was made from the most sacred ore on the continent, so it wouldn’t break easily.

And so, the moment came when Retavis’s body and the cross collided.

Sizzle-!

"Kuaaaaaah!"

"...Oh?"

Both Retavis and I were caught off guard by what happened.

All that ferocious momentum vanished, and Retavis jumped back as if struck by a powerful static shock. Black smoke rose from his shoulder where the cross had touched him.

Retavis, who had stumbled back several meters in a daze, suddenly stopped. Behind him was the cliff where Leonard had fallen.

A dead end. Finally regaining some composure, Retavis looked at me with eyes that still held a glimmer of reason.

To be precise, he was staring at the black rosary that had just been thrown, collided with him, bounced off, and returned to my hand.

A shocked silence hung between us. Both of us were dumbfounded. I stared blankly at the rosary in my hand.

The rosary was glowing.

Only then did I understand what was happening. Why the rosary was acting like this.

"Eureka."

It came to me. A very interesting idea. One that would breathe life into this dull fight—a legendary idea.

Rosary.

Cross.

Rosario.

Whatever the name, what mattered was that this cross was imbued with a powerful force that would obliterate a despicable race like demons the moment it touched them.

"Curious what this is? Why don’t you feel it for yourself!"

It was an item always carried by the saint, who possessed the most holy power in the Holy Church. The cross itself was a death note to demons and monsters.

Holy power repels demonic energy. It defines evil forces and punishes those who dare defy the Lord’s teachings with overwhelming power. When I met the saint in Tartarus, I had a seizure when she tried to heal me by infusing holy power.

Although the saint’s genuine holy power, fueled even by her lifespan, succeeded in healing me despite the barrier of race.

The fact that I could touch the cross bare-handed was probably because the saint had personally handed it to me. Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense.

"......! Uh, ughhh!"

Retavis’s eyes widened to the size of bowls. His mouth, already torn to the limit, hung open, leaving him speechless.

He must have seen the black cross in my right hand. The cross, despite its dark color, would blend into the night, making it hard to see. Of course, now it was emitting a dazzling light, brighter than anything.

I deliberately raised the cross high so it was clearly visible.

"Uh! Uh! Ughhh...!"

For demons, the cross is a cursed object that should never be laid eyes upon. Possessing the cross, a symbol of the Holy Church, is grounds for immediate execution, and in severe cases, even the punishment of fiery imprisonment.

Of course, as with all crimes, if you don’t get caught, you’re innocent.

Therefore, I am a good and exemplary demon. A law-abiding demon who sets an example for others.

"Uh! Ugh! Ughhh!"

After recognizing the cross, Retavis shriveled up like a mouse before a cat. For a demon born and raised in the demon realm, the saint’s rosary was truly an object of terror.

Ah, this is fun. His reactions are explosive, and it’s amusing to see Retavis being so ridiculously controlled by this small object in my hand.

"Sister, let’s dance a wonderful dance together! The title is, 'A Demon Realm Night’s Waltz!'"

"Oh, ohia! Ohia!"

"Don’t say no! How can we dance together without getting close? Don’t be shy! I’ll lead you skillfully!"

Drunk on the desire to swing the cross as quickly as possible, I hurriedly put on a white mask and rushed toward Retavis. With the cliff behind him, he had no choice but to try to dodge to the left.

I quickly positioned myself in front of Retavis, pressing him against the edge of the cliff. Then, Retavis tried to force his way through with his back.

Sizzle-!

As I lightly reached out and pressed the cross against his shoulder, he immediately screamed and retreated. The lethality was incomparable to the pocket knife from before.

"Kuaaaaaah!"

"Aww, mutual interaction is important in a waltz. If you suddenly charge recklessly like that, the rhythm gets ruined."

The black rosary, now only dark in color, was emitting a light brighter and purer than anything in the world. The light that always surrounded the saint in Tartarus now flourished around the cross.

It had detected a target that needed to be eradicated and entered a state of purification.

I, with my unknown resistance, was fine, but the holy light was like molten lava to demons and magical beasts. The creations of the most despicable god, the Demon God, could not withstand the radiance of holy power.

Moreover, if the cross itself touched their skin, what would happen to the fragile skin of a demon?

Sizzle- Thud.

"...! Uh, ughhh!"

The shoulder, which offered no resistance, melted away easily. Both Retavis and I were startled. I hadn’t expected it to completely vanish just from a touch.

It made me realize anew how foolish the priestly race was. Despite possessing such destructive power, they always waved it in front of demons, devils, and monsters, shouting, 'In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!'

Of course, the fact that it was the saint’s cross made the holy power even stronger.

As the shoulder disappeared, the arm fell off. Overwhelmed by the unreal pain and situation, Retavis lost his will to fight.

The lost will to fight awakened forgotten fear. Even as his body stiffened, he moved with creaking sounds.

Retavis tried to move his legs to escape the range of the cross I held.

As if that would work, you fool.

"Sister! Where are you trying to run off to? The waltz isn’t over yet!"

"Uh, ugh! Kuaaaah!"

"Don’t worry and let’s match our steps slowly! One, two! One, two... Oops! My foot got tangled!"

I stomped on Retavis’s foot with mine as he tried to run. He was so weakened that I could hold him for about three seconds. That was enough.

Crack-!

Sizzle-!

"Kuuuuuh!"

"Follow my rhythm! I’m a gentle man, you know!"

Crack-! Thud-! Splat-!

I swung the cross with great vigor, smashing Retavis’s body here and there. No, melting it.

He struggled desperately to escape, but I first slashed the cross downward, severing his legs. No, melting them.

With both legs gone, Retavis fell face-first to the ground, flailing his remaining arm uselessly.

I knelt reverently before him and repeatedly raised and lowered the cross. No, melted it.

Flashes of light swept through like a storm. The light of justice rained down from the sky. On the ground, blood-soaked flesh and mucus spread in all directions.

This is the will of the Lord, the judgment of God.

It’s me who holds the rosary and swings it, but how is this the will of God? If someone were to throw such a frustrating question at me, I would answer like this.

I am the Apostle of the Lord.

What’s wrong with that? I received the rosary directly from the Saint, the Lord’s closest daughter, and I am also the one who received the love of the most noble and pure Saint in the world. Though I haven’t received baptism, I am the one who almost received the Saint’s first kiss.

Therefore, from now on, I am the Apostle of God. I am also a playful magician, the first film director, and a mischievous boy who loves to have fun, fitting for my age.

Smack-! Thud-! Crunch-! Splat-!

Under the light emitted by the great and benevolent Saint, a pitiful demon dies. The one killing is me.

I mercilessly crush a young demon, who is losing the light of life in real time, as a tool to spread love.

Is this love? Yes, it is love. It is the love of a peculiar Apostle created by the kind Lord. With the product of love made by God, I am striking with love filled to the brim.

It may not seem like it, but I truly only have love for Retavis in my heart.

There is a saying that love is another word for pain. It’s the same context. Whether it’s love between lovers or the love bestowed by God, there’s not much difference.

I hope you don’t judge by the outdated standards of the old world set by the old-timers. Well, if you don’t like it, there’s nothing I can do.

Thud-! Screech-! Crunch-!

The cross commits evil. The cross commits evil. The Lord’s sacred relic is used as a tool of slaughter.

The positions of good and evil are reversed. The most corrupted creation of God wields the Lord’s grace. Revenge under the name of purification blooms at my fingertips.

"...."

"...."

Retavis no longer groans. His heartbeat has stopped, and his form has completely disappeared. It’s not just from being beaten, but because he was purified from head to toe by the holy power of the rosary.

The show is over. The only audience has left.

I don’t know where he went. To the afterlife, hell, or heaven. No one knows the world after death. But the great Lord, whom I’ve decided to believe in from today, would know.

When a joyful show comes to an end, what remains is cleanup and lingering emotions. For now, I want to fully savor the lingering emotions.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve experienced slaughter, so my pounding heart doesn’t calm down easily. If you can’t avoid it, enjoy it—that’s my life motto.

I need to take measures for Adela, who is probably experiencing chaos in my room right now, and for my aunt, whom I roughly tied up and left there. This place also needs to be wrapped up. But all of that can wait.

Now, what I need to do is.

"Huuuub-."

Take a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air of the demon realm into my lungs.

"Hwiyooooo-."

Exhale deeply, enjoying the metallic smell of blood. For today, this much is enough.

I feel refreshed inside. It’s partly because I’ve succeeded in the revenge I couldn’t achieve in my past life, and partly because I’ve gained a new name as the Apostle of God. I’ve also gained a new mother.

My mother, the Lord. From today onward, I will diligently continue the purification activities in Your name.

So, from today, please watch over me carefully.

The one who will become Your most benevolent son, Oscar Lucifer-.

*****

Thud, thud, thud, thud....

My vision blurs, and my consciousness fades.

Where was this place again?

Ah, right. Endros' Cliff. I came here after falling for my youngest brother Oscar’s trick and witnessed a shocking sight.

The sight of my youngest brother killing his own kin without hesitation.

I felt awkward seeing him do something I couldn’t even imagine, so effortlessly.

But now, why has it come to this?

Why is Oscar on top of me, striking me down with that monstrosity?

Where did that monstrosity come from?

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

More painful than the agony of my flesh burning, more excruciating than the pain of my insides being torn apart by a pocket knife, is the fact that I can’t resist and am just waiting for the being before me to kill me.

Oscar was wearing a mask I didn’t know when he put on. The pure white magician’s hat, the snow-white mask, and the pristine white suit combined with the bright light emitted by the black cross, shining dazzlingly. The splattered red flower stains matched eerily well.

Is that a devil?

...No.

That is no mere devil.

A devil is a black existence embodying inherent evil and desire. But that thing is painted white from head to toe, and it’s beating me to death with the cross, a sacred relic of the Sun God.

Who could call that a devil?

That is an angel.

Its appearance, entirely clad in pure white, is undoubtedly the form of an angel.

The most wicked and vicious angel in the world.