He was bent over now, his back now feeling very small against Suzuno’s. The awe-inspiring force he wielded to crush both angel and demon after he breezed into the fray in Sasahata North High seemed like a long-forgotten lie.
“And yet,” Suzuno offered in a whisper, “you still had to take action, no? Since you were king.”
Maou shook again.
“You had to balance the human world against your own people, did you not…Devil King?”
She looked up, staring at the back of Satan, the Devil King.
“What is the sin that bedevils your heart?”
“My sin…”
“Is it all the humans you killed, the Ente Islan land that you invaded?”
“No,” Maou sharply replied.
“So what is it?” Suzuno pressed.
“It’s the way I…betrayed my believers. The way I led them to their deaths. How I made the wrong move as king.”
“If that is what you regret, what must you do next?”
“I…” Maou paused, letting each of Suzuno’s words settle into his stomach. “I need to keep living. Keep surviving as king, no matter what. Until the moment I’m not.”
“Precisely.”
Suzuno smiled, then slowly stood up and away from Maou’s back. She looked up at the starfield above, choosing to ignore the face of her confessor.
“It is just as you say: A king must constantly strive to discover the path he deems to be just, as he leads his people. He must pull his people ever forward, until another, newer king takes his place. And you will become king of not only demons, but humanity as well, no?”
“…Oh, right. This is a confession, huh?”
Maou’s voice sounded about ready to break. Whether because he was laughing or crying, Suzuno couldn’t venture.
“You think the god you worship’s willing to forgive a demon’s sins?”
“I imagine not, strictly speaking. Certainly not a demon king’s, at least.”
“Wow, thanks a lot,” Maou jabbed. “After all that, this is what you give me?”
Suzuno flashed a calm smile and shook her head.
“I, on the other hand, do forgive you.”
“Suzuno?”
Maou reflexively turned around. He found a robed figure slowly turning to meet his gaze. Her smile was among the gentlest sights he had ever seen.
“Satan, ruler of demons…I have heard of your royal isolation, and of your royal sins. I recognize it all to be the holy truth, and by the name of Crestia Bell, my very own, your sins are now forgiven. Whether my god, or anyone else on this world, believes it or not…I am impressed you could tell me all of that.”
Maou gaped at Suzuno for a moment. Then, regaining his senses, he winced.
“Oh, come on! What the hell was all that about?! Did you put something in my fish pie this afternoon or something?!”
“Perhaps. I am feeling rather…out of sorts at the moment myself.” Suzuno’s face, lit by the dancing light from the fire, looked ever so slightly flushed. “But it is a simple matter. I have already been saved multiple times by you—whether you meant to or not. I felt I needed to repay you for that, and also, quite likely…”
“Wh-what?”
“…No. Never mind.” She shook her head lightly, shaking off the tension, and stepped away from Maou, settling down at the other side of the fire. “If I went any further, I would simply be spouting nonsense. It would hardly do to throw the confessor into further confusion, and if it were to come out, we risk incurring the wrath of Chiho.”
“Wh-why Chiho?”
“…I can only imagine how much more anxiety it would put upon her.” Her voice seemed strained, but her face in the firelight was still smiling. “I have become quite the believer in Chiho, as of late. But enough of that. I do not have the conviction that Chiho does…or the bravery.”
“Uh…huh.” Maou fell silent, befuddled and unsure of where to go from here.
“…Devil King.”
“…Now what is it?”
It might have been his imagination, but there seemed to be a twinge of sadness to Suzuno’s face.
“No matter what you may think, I swear by my pride as a Church cleric that I have accepted your story. I do not intend to relay it to anyone else. But…I think you should tell Emilia. When you—”
“Forget it.”
“—are prepared to…um?”
“Emi’s the last person I’d tell.”
Suzuno blinked. He sounded so decisive about it.
“Like, how would that even be fair?” he said as he shook his head, his voice just as resolute.
“Fair?”
“One thing I’ve learned over the past few months of dealing with her,” Maou rattled off, “is that despite all that Hero crap, she’s got the mental toughness of a block of tofu. She’s just barely recovered now. If she starts up with that wayward-little-girl act again, it’s gonna drive me crazy.” He looked down, spitting the words out. “To Emi, I’m the king of the invaders who screwed up her life. And I’m fine with that.”
“But that—”
“Whether her dad’s alive or not, what I did robbed her of some of the best years of her life. I put her and the rest of the humans on the balance against my own kingdom’s people, and I chose my own kind.”
The words came slowly, as he chewed over each one.
“I don’t really care to dwell on what I did to her, I don’t want her to forgive me, and it’s not like I got any right to be forgiven, anyway. If I asked for it, she’d have no idea what to do. She’s already putting us through all this, besides…”
“…Devil King, are you—”
“This whole thing’s involving me, and Ashiya, and Alas Ramus and Acieth, and Nord, too. I appointed Emi one of my Great Demon Generals. I’m helping her because I have a responsibility to. That’s something totally different from Hero or Devil or whatever.”
He gave Suzuno a rueful glare.
“So even if we all get out of this in one piece, you know Emi’s probably gonna be all whiny about failing to live up to her…whatever. You think she’ll be in any shape to listen to my dumb old story, too? God, she’d never let me hear the end of it.”
Suddenly coming to his feet, Maou turned his back to Suzuno and headed for his tent.
“If she gets all sarcastic with me when she sees me here, fine. That’s perfect. Anything more than that, it’s gonna throw me off way too much.”
“Devil King—”
“…Oh, and that counts as part of my confession, too, okay?” he shouted as he crouched by the tent flap. “No telling anyone!!” Then, before any response could arrive, he crawled in and closed the entryway.
Suzuno, without thinking about it, hugged her body. “…”
The body that had felt Maou’s heat a moment ago.
“How gentle do you have to be,” she said, a self-chiding smile on her face, “and yet how cruel…?”
She looked up at the red and blue moons decorating the night sky.
“Emilia… How are you planning to live, going forward?”
“Mpph… Ham and melon…mhh…”
Crestia Bell, a mere human, involved with only a tiny footnote of the massive demon battle that changed her world, found herself lost. There was no telling what lurked beyond the truth behind that war.
“Shrimp-chili dumplings… Sunny-side-up egg and toast…”
“I doubt you have ever eaten those things before, have you?”
That was why the night babblings of the innocent little larva, so honest and faithful to her urges, were just the coolant Suzuno needed to calm her soul.
“For that matter…what will happen to me, going forward?”
She felt the speed of her pulse as she kept her arms close to herself, and sighed once more.
The surrender of the trade city of Gwenvan was nigh.
Under the banner of the Hero Emilia’s return, the Eight Scarves army that rode from Phaigan—now known to the world as the “Phaigan V
olunteer Force”—had begun to battle against the Malebranche forces controlling the lands west of Heavensky. They had seized the initiative, conquering town after town under the control of the Malebranche officers who formed the New Devil King’s Army upper brass, and now they were at Gwenvan, second only to Heavensky in size.
The volunteers had the clear upper hand. As a city of commerce, Gwenvan had no stout city walls or defensive installations. The wide road that led inside easily allowed a large force to travel across it. What foolish Malebranche fighters dared to remain were wiped out momentarily. Soon Scarmiglione, the demons’ chief in Gwenvan, was cornered.
“Reporting! The Inlain Crimsons on the front lines are engaging the enemy leader! Battle is underway!”
Emi immediately rose to her feet at the report from the harried soldier who had burst into the volunteer force’s camp.
“I’m going out,” she said. “Their chief will be dozens of times more powerful than his foot soldiers. It’ll take more than a few halfhearted swipes to beat him.”
She was about to leave the camp—equipped not with the Better Half, but the ornate sword Olba gave her—when a voice stopped her.
“No need.”
Emi turned around and glared at Olba, who was serving as one of the camp’s staff officers. “Olba,” she barked, “do you want the blood of the Eight Scarves knights on your hands? This will be over in the blink of an eye when I reach him.”
“Indeed it would be, I suppose. But it is not the role of a general to simply stroll into battle at the drop of a hat. If we were struggling, that would be one thing, but the general appearing when we have such a clear advantage is far from advisable. It could even damage our soldiers’ morale.”
“…But!” Emi trembled, the grip of the sword in her hand.
“Emilia, you are both the supreme commander of this volunteer force and its most powerful symbol. Please do not engage in such rash behavior. That courage of yours is instilling all of us here with the will to go on.”
“Gnh…”
Emi sized up the Eight Scarves generals stationed in the camp, the ones who traveled with her from Phaigan. They greeted her eyes with hope and bravery, unaware of what she held in her heart.
“Can I at least provide some advice, then? Victory is ours—that much is sure enough. There’s no need to sacrifice any more than we must by now. We need to ask the Malebranche forces for their surrender. We seek to free the town of Gwenvan, not commit a massacre of…”
It was a faint hope Emi clung to as she pieced the words together. Unexpectedly, the suggestion seemed to surprise Olba. “Emilia,” he exclaimed, “are you telling us to let the demons live?!”
“I…was…”
All eyes in the camp were on Emi. She failed to form an immediate reply. And before she could figure out why, another messenger stormed into the camp.
“I have an urgent Idea Link report from the front!”
It had been less than five minutes since the last message, but the pale grin on this soldier made Emi emit a desperate gasp.
“Reporting from our frontline force! After fierce combat with the Malebranche leader, our forces have successfully defeated him! The leader’s death has been confirmed!! The city of Gwenvan is free!!”
“Nnngh!!”
Emi’s face couldn’t have been more tightly wound. None of the generals around her, overcome with joy and relief, managed to notice. The jubilant words the messenger brought to the camp were exactly what Emi feared the worst.
“It… It’s just another demon gone… Another enemy of mankind.”
As the frenzied celebrations began across Gwenvan, Emi sat in the officers’ conference room in the camp. She was bent over, clutching her knees.
“It… They’re just getting what’s coming to them. The demon stragglers who tried to follow in the footsteps of the Devil King’s Army… The horrid demons we have to kill… It’s just another one down.”
There was no color to her voice, no sense of human emotion. It was like she was reading the words from a slip of paper.
“The demons are…our enemies. My—Ente Isla’s enemy. If we eradicate them, we’ll have peace in the world…”
“What…do you think the ‘demons’ truly are?”
“Ngh…”
She shivered at the voice coming from inside. She balled herself up even more tightly, shrinking at the weight she felt pushing down upon her.
“The enemy. Our enemies. The enemy of mankind. The fearsome foes that threaten our way of life…”
“It is like the Malebranche, back on that very day. Those foolish Malebranche leaders, who believed every word of it when I told them they could gain revenge against the foe who slew the Devil King and his generals.”
“Nnh!!”
Emi grabbed her head, groaning. She should have known the whole time. For the past year or so, she had seen mankind and demonkind from a completely different perspective.
“Why…? That demon is dead, and why am I so…?”
She couldn’t bring herself to say that the enemy had their own motivations. She was lost, certainly, but she still had enough confidence to state that Maou and his demons were enemies to her. And yet her guilt at the death of a single anonymous Malebranche leader racked her with torment.
If the Malebranche hadn’t been defeated here, Gwenvan would be under demon control forever. They were freeing the people of Gwenvan from them. It should have been the right thing to do.
“…Mommy?”
Emi’s heart was so exhausted with emotion that not even Alas Ramus could reach it, inside. She listlessly stood up, none of the feelings swirling within her resolved at all, and returned to the canopy bed prepared specially for her. She threw herself in, not bothering to remove her armor, and then began to sleep the sleep of the dead.
Alas Ramus materialized next to her, looked at the pained face of the sleeping Emi. She gently patted the cheek of her thoroughly spent mommy.
“Oo?”
Suddenly, the child felt something near—something familiar.
“Who’s there?”
But it was for just a moment, and just as quickly it disappeared into thin air, like a grain of sand in the desert. It was still enough to make Alas Ramus bring a hand to her forehead and sit up in the darkness for a while, eyes darting around the room.
“Ooh, man, what a mess.”
“…”
“You heard me, didn’t you? I tried to stop ’em.”
“…”
“Hey, um, can we try to make this more of a back-and-forth kinda thing? It’s not like we’re strangers, yeah?”
“…What are you trying to do?”
“Ooh, he speaks!”
The Azure Emperor of the great land of Efzahan would normally be sitting there, on the throne that gilded his vast main chamber in Heavensky Keep. Instead, the chamber was chiefly populated by piles of bodies—the bodies of the so-called elites of the Eight Scarves. Their adversary was watching over them.
“Well, Ashiya? Or would you prefer ‘Great Demon General Alciel’ for old times’ sake? How d’you like Heavensky Keep’s throne room?”
“…It disgusts me.”
Alciel’s forked tail twitched in the air distractedly as he sat atop the throne, dolefully glaring at Gabriel gleefully leaning against a column near the entrance. Even with the ripped-up pieces of cheap UniClo clothing still stuck to his body, he yet struck a fearsome presence.
“Archangel Gabriel…what are you trying to do?”
“Me? Oh, nothin’. You remember from back in Japan about how we angels aren’t sidin’ with the humans, right?”
He flung his arms open wide in a feigned show of joy.
“Besides, just look! You’re finally back in Ente Isla! All your demonic force is back! All those days of scoping out supermarkets to find the cheapest box of laundry detergent are behind you now! Isn’t it lovely?”
No reaction.
“…All right, all right. I’ll quit with t
he jokes. Eesh. Tough crowd.”
“…This is truly Heavensky?”
“Mm-hmm. Wanna see?”
“Hmph.”
Alciel stood from the throne and walked past Gabriel. As if following him down the aisle, the fallen knights began to wail at him.
“Nn…hhh…”
“Oh, will you guys grow a pair? I thought y’all were supposed to be the baddest hombres Efzahan could dish out, yeah? I told you he was too much for you guys to handle, but then y’all freaked out so much over his transformation that I didn’t have time to stop you… Hey, thanks for not killing ’em, at least!”
“…They have no value dead,” Alciel called out from the throne room’s balcony. “It would be meaningless.”
The sight of Ashiya regaining his original form as Alciel had sent the Eight Scarves knights guarding him into a frenzied panic. The demon showed no particular sign of attacking them, but the knights had stepped up to subdue him anyway. This was the result.
The sight of Efzahan’s capital spread out beneath his vantage point did nothing to change Alciel’s expression. He turned around, only to find Gabriel foolishly grinning at him.
“What kind of role are you attempting to push on me here?”
“Oh! Figured it out?”
“Emilia’s father’s presence in that apartment was sheer coincidence. Hatching a distraction in Chiho Sasaki’s school would naturally cause Bell to rush to the scene. Thus, I was your only feasible target.”
“Mmm? What about Lucifer and Satan?”
“If you wanted them, you would have appeared when they were present. You are hardly so tactless that you’d strike without making sure your target was there.”
“Ha-ha! Okay, fair ’nuff. Your role here’s pretty simple, actually: Just sit back on that throne and stretch your legs out. Take a load off! Everyone else’ll take care of the rest.”
“…”
Alciel fixated his eyes upon Gabriel’s frivolous grin. Then he closed them.
“This is ridiculous.”
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 9 Page 19
