Volu 5 - 1Chapter 1 – Darkness
I do not have a religion.
My father scoffed at religion. He has always been a man who would scoff at things frequently.
To my father, religion was opium for the weak and, by extension, a factory that created weak people. My father wanted his household to be a hunting ground that raised the strong. Even a gap where opium could be planted was not allowed in his household.
My father had once sat at the dining table and said this:
“The trend of religion has passed. To be a little more exact, even now, the trend is in the middle of withering away.”
It was obvious what my father wanted from his children. He wanted us to grow up into beasts that could rip through anything. Religion was the easiest livestock to rip the flesh off of. My father’s scoffing was easily passed down onto us.
At that ti, besides us, our mothers were also seated at the dining room table, but there was one among them who was religious. From what I can rember, she was from a family that had very strict religious traditions. Nevertheless, I have never seen her give a retort to my father’s jeers.
She would simply pray by herself for 5 seconds before every al. By doing so, she would narrowly overlook the various responses. My father would end up smiling bitterly before saying,
‘Well. It can’t be helped.’
At those tis, his tone would nearly sound as if he were simply allowing his silly lover to have her few seconds of freedom.
She behaved like a heretic with deep sins. She didn’t raise her voice when morizing scriptures, nor did she et up with other believers in private. No, she didn’t even preach to her own child about religious doctrines. A silent tribute before a al. 5 seconds. It felt as if that was all there was to her faith.
The ti I witnessed the sight of her praying was almost close to a coincidence. Looking back at it now, I’m uncertain whether that was actually a prayer or not. Every once in a while, trivially peculiar things happen to . During those tis, I have trivially peculiar thoughts. This story is like that as well.
I had shut myself in the study on that day. I had done so because the mothers were occupying the living room and having a large quarrel. They were so loud that the sound of the argunt between mothers had even seeped through the door crevice of the study.
— This is my ho. My and that person’s ho. How dare you uneducated people thoughtlessly set foot······.
— If soone here is going to leave, then it should be you! It’s all your fault after all. Last ti and this ti as well, all of it······.
— Please, if we think before we speak, then······.
Argunts like this occurred at the drop of a hat.
There was nothing significant about it. No matter how loud their dispute on whether I’m the whore or she’s the whore got, the mothers were consistent when it ca to turning a blind eye to what was actually the most important conclusion, in other words, the fact that it was my father who was the worst motherfucker in the universe. At the very least, it was like that when they fought among themselves. In this house, as my father was like an inviolable existence, to them, everyone excluding themselves was a whore.
In that mont, soone had run into the study. It was her. She must have been struck by soone as her lips were bleeding. Soon after, sothing bewildering occurred. The mont she and I made eye contact, she burst into tears.
I calmly comforted her and stroked her shoulder. I wonder how much ti passed. She grasped my hand and wept.
“Forgive your mothers. Forgive your father. Forgive us. Every day, aah. Truly, I repent my sins every day······ Truly······.”
It felt as if I had been slapped since my head went blank.
She continued to mutter while keeping her head lowered.
“Please forgive us. As I shall repent my sins, please take pity on the sins which I could not repent. Please forgive us······.”
The person who she was pleading for forgiveness from was most likely not . She wasn’t crying to , but to her God after all.
At a glance, it felt as if she had succeeded. As her cries traveled an incredible distance when she wept, it almost sounded as if it were not here.
How desperate her voice was. It was to an extent that it nearly fooled even . If she had not shed her tears on , if her tears had not stained my clothes, then there was a chance that I might have actually believed that God had heard her cries.
At the very most, the only place where her tears could drench was my clothes. The only place that would willingly be drenched by her tears was also my clothes. I then understood that this was the problem of everything.
I comforted her for a long ti before sending her back out of the study. I sat down on a chair and fell into deep thought. Who could forgive that person’s sins?
She had cried to God. Or maybe she had cried towards her entire life. However, as I am not a God, it was not her entire life even more. No matter who it was. What can anyone do for her? Who can declare the innocence of a human?
The place outside of the door was still dreary with the sound of fighting.
— Last ti as well, because we had done everything the way you wanted······.
— No, it’s because you were so needlessly persistent······.
— Please, if you’re going to fight, then do it outside······.
I picked up the book that I was reading earlier.
The words were not registering in my eyes. Only sound. As it was the sound of fighting that had started before I was born and will be the sound of fighting that will continue even after my father’s death, this continued to echo in my head.
Even the cry that had been burying itself into my clothes a second ago was mixed in over there. The sound of crying and the sound of voices feasted upon each other and disgorged one another. I felt dizzy. There were only a few words that reached my ear and could be heard distinctly.
All your.
No, you.
Please.
That was it.
The musical lody of Beethoven, which I had turned on, was flowing through the study. ‘From darkness to light’, this was supposedly a quote from Beethoven. I did not know how many gaps I had to cross, nor did I know how many the gaps had to be in order for my life to beco a single lody.
This was what I was simply unaware of.
?The King of Peasants, Rank 71st, Dantalian
Empire Calendar: Year 1506, Month 4, Day 10
Polles, Bruno Plains, Army of the Crescent Alliance
“Sinner Dantalian, listen.”
My trial was carried out in a simple fashion. It happened late in the night.
Once the afternoon sun shone down on the season where the spring rain had just ended, the world beca humid. That humidity continued on even into the evening. As I was still seated inside of the prison, I received the steam that was wandering sowhere between the late spring and early sumr with my bare skin.
According to the judge,
“A few days ago, you had basked in the glory of being selected as the representative to give the speech of the Crescent Alliance to announce the start of war. You, however, had dared to nominate the lowly blood of a human and, as a result, you had disgraced your blood allies. Although you are the representative of all of demonkind, since the one you had chosen to act in your place was a human, at the very least, you have thrown away your obligations, and at most, you have sullied the customs of demonkind. Your sin is trendous.”
is what I had done.
I don’t know if my sin is trendous or not, but the only thought that was going through my head was that the camp was trendously noisy even during the night. The purge was currently in a present progressive form. Although the Demon Lords who were revealed as traitors were all beheaded, there were still soldiers who were loyal to those decapitated heads, so a slaughter of the highest acclaim was occurring at the bottom of the hill.
— ······.
Farnese was still performing there. The performance that had started late in the evening did not stop even when a quarter of a day had passed. It happened late in the night. In the center of where soldiers were killing soldiers and soldiers were being killed by soldiers, Farnese’s fingers flew across the piano keys as she relied on the torches that were lighting various areas of the camp.
The witches were convoying my trial from a distance and muttering to each other.
“Seriously, if she’s going to keep that up, then how long does Miss General intend to perform—?”
“I don’t know. A lot of stuff must have piled up in her mind as she lived her life. If she can release her large amount of stress by doing that, then it’d be a relief.”
“Do you think I asked that question because I didn’t knooow that? I asked that because her song is shady. From a good perspective, it’s a song overflowing with madness, and from a bad perspective, it’s just a crazy song. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that our general is a slightly crazy bitch.”
“You’re hearing it like that because your knowledge of art is exceedingly lacking. Even if the things you’re lacking in isn’t just one or two things, among those things, you’re overwhelmingly lacking in your knowledge of art. Similar to how only humans appear in the eyes of humans, only crazy bitches appear in the eyes of crazy bitches, so the phenonon where General Farnese appears like a crazy bitch to you just proves the fact that you’re a crazy bitch. Wow. I was really fucking logical just now.”
“Aha. Do you want to be fucking logically beat up?”
“If you want to prove
wrong, then try composing a decent song yourself.”
“Aaall right. I’ll start composing right away. You provoked . For starters, once you play my song, then thooose corpses that died over there will spring up and start dancing, and even Master Dantalian’s penis will stand up and dance fancifully. Just you wait······.”
“······.”
I wonder if it’s because the witches were rattling on endlessly. The judge’s expression changed into a frown. Similarly, the demon soldiers the judge had brought also had quite the bad complexion. The witches were no different to outcasts. It must be unpleasant. Although it should be my role as their master to stop them, who cares? I left them alone.
Because the girl who ca here as the judge was a bit annoying.
“Haa.”
In the end, the judge stopped reading out my sentencing and let out a sigh.
“······Heey. It’d be nice if you listened to
a bit seriously. This isn’t soone else’s sentencing but yours, Skinnybones. No matter how much this may be just for the sake of formality, goofing off so blatantly like that is going too far, isn’t it?”
The judge was none other than Demon Lord Sitri.
Paimon’s close aide, the girl who had at one point tried to poison
to death was reading my cri to . Sitri’s expression would beco vague when she rebuked
for my wrongdoing, but it felt like that was because she herself knew that she had nothing to be ashad about. If that weren’t the case? Then she’s a fucking bastard.
The problem was the issue regarding whether Sitri was a fucking bastard or a fucking bitch.
“I have no idea what you may be talking about, Your Honor. I am already focused. In truth, I am so focused that it almost feels as if I cannot be any more focused than this. I am so concentrated that if I were to be any more concentrated than this, then, on the contrary, I would no longer be able to concentrate.”
“Yeah, so that’s why you’re fervently staring at my crotch even now?”
“It is a territory that deserves to be academically researched.”
“You an a territory that deserves to be pervertedly indulged in, you pervert.”
Rank 12th, Demon Lord Sitri was a hermaphrodite. This ant that she possessed both a pΟnis and vΟgina at the sa ti, but a king can’t possibly utter such vulgar words like simultaneous possessor of a pΟnis and a vΟgina, so I am making do by elegantly referring to her as a hermaphrodite. I am a gentleman who knows courtesy after all.
“How is it like, Your Highness Sitri? Is there a difference between the pleasure you bask in when using your male genitalia and the bliss you experience when using your female genitalia? Although I have heard many tis before that the pleasure which the female genitalia experience is much greater than its male counterpart, there is not much to that statent if I am not provided proof. There is a possibility that the type of sexual pleasure itself is different. Since the sensation of being ramd and doing the ramming are completely different, the very act of ruthlessly lumping those two together and calling it sexual pleasure may possibly be mistaken. If that is the case, then it would be an issue of preference. Your Highness Sitri. Your Respectable Honor. It may be presumptuous of
to ask, but between being ramd and doing the ramming, which act is more to your taste, Your Honor?”
“Yup, you pervert. You’re already perverted and not only are you perverted to the point that it feels as if you cannot be any more perverted than this, you’re so perverted that if you sohow do beco more perverted than this, then at that point, you’d have already stopped being a pervert and have beco sothing else.”
This was a ridiculous slander. Honestly speaking, I was slightly shocked. Even if this woman???this man???no, this woman, no this man, in short, this person who could either be a fucking bitch or a fucking bastard, this Demon Lord who I have yet to determine if they’re a fucking bastard or a fucking bitch so, in short, I’ll refer to them as Schrodinger’s fuck???even if she was simply reading straight from the untampered manuscript which was written by both Barbatos and Paimon, if you consider her statent just now, it was dubious as to whether she was actually maintaining neutrality as the judge or not. To be honest, it was also doubtful as to whether there were enough brain cells stored inside that skull or not. However, this might be a bit of a rude suspicion to have. Whenever I find myself in a situation where it is difficult to tell whether the opposition in front of
has brain cells or not, I was on the side of believing that they did. I am still a gentleman who knows courtesy after all······.
“That is certainly true. Our Master Dantalian is indeed a perverted pervert.”
“Yup. Our master and the word pervert are so closely connected to one another, that it’s quite difficult to claim that he isn’t a pervert. Not only is it incredibly difficult to do, but if you deny the fact that our master is a pervert, then it’d feel like you’re denying our master’s very being. In other words, this ans that Master Dantalian’s very essence is perverted. Ah. I was really fucking logical just now.”
“How strange. It seems logic has changed without my knowledge.”
“By the way, what are you scribbling on that parchnt? How dare you do sothing else even though we’re discussing the fact that our master is a pervert.”
“I’m writing a song. What’s so new about the fact that Master Dantalian is a pervert that you girls need to babble about it? If anything, you all might as well babble about the fact that the sun will also rise in the morning tomorrow and also set at night tomorrow since that will at least bestow upon all of your lacking sense of culture a smidgeon of new knowledge. More importantly, in order to prove my knowledge of art, I’m in the middle of composing an amazing song, a song that humanity has never heard of thus far and never will in the future.”
“I wonder about that. From what I can tell, I feel like your statent just now is actually the bullshit that humanity has never heard of thus far and never will in the future······.”
“Now that I think about it, I heard a rumor that Master Dantalian slept with General Farnese.”
“What?”
“What was that?”
“What did you say?”
“What do re mi did you say?”
“Beautiful. A magnificent chorus. Good. If we add our ensemble to the general’s performance, then it’ll make it even better. It’s only right for crazy bitches to sing for a song played by a crazy bitch. Sing, you bitches. Dance, you bitches. Let us hold our own Walpurgis Night by ourselves.”
“What did you say la ti fa mi re dooo—?”
“Damn it, that’s a bit too much. You went too far. The chorus ended up coming to a halt as soon as it had begun because of so psychotic bitch. This is why singing with crazy bitches is quite the difficult task. They’re quite the crazy bitches after all.”
“Wait a second. If that rumor is true, then why doesn’t Master even look our way even though he’s slept with the general? Though I shouldn’t be the one to talk, from our and the general’s appearances, our ages don’t look that far apart, right? To be honest, we’re pretty much the sa. We’re similarly young. Why am I hearing this rumor about our master sleeping with General Farnese for the first ti?”
“That can be answered with a very simple response. Because it’s a rumor that I made up just now.”
“This fucking bitch?”
“So what were we talking about?”
“We were talking about Master Dantalian being a pervert.”
“We were talking about how Master Dantalian slept with the general just now.”
“Dear Lord. Is that true? Really, Master. You can’t live like such a pervert. A person should live with so courtesy.”
“······.”
And my witches were fellows who had shoved sothing like courtesy into a food waste disposal bin. These damned girls.
“These sluts who wouldn’t even be satisfying to chew to death???.”
Rustle.
It was at the instant that the commander whom Sitri had brought pulled out his sword.
The witches who were chatting and cackling among themselves raised their staffs and aid them at the throats of the soldiers. It was night. Shadows that were clearly not cast by the night wrapped around the necks of the soldiers like octopus tentacles. They wickedly flicked around as if they could lick the necks of the soldiers and deprive them of their lives at any mont.
“······.”
The commander gulped. In the distance, although the slaughter under the pretext of purging was still noisy and the song that Farnese was performing was also prominent, this place, because this hill where my prison cell was located was like the eye of the storm placed at the very center of all the clamor, the sound of soone gulping was bleak.
“Yeah?”
“Well?”
“What?”
The witches tilted their heads. The angle and speed with which the witches had tilted their heads were identical. While obliquely tilting their heads at the sa speed and angle, the witches smiled gaily.
“Is it your first ti seeing crazy bitches?”
“······, ······.”
“Mm. Sir. You. Mister. I don’t think this is our first eting. I rember seeing your face sowhere. Where was it? Ahahah. Where did I witness this punk’s faaace?”
Aha, the witch then uttered.
“Yotvingian Plains. The assembly area of the Crescent Alliaaance.”
“······.”
“That’s right. That’s when I saw you. That’s when you showed your face, while moving those trivial eyes. While wagging that dirty mouth. Yup. I saw you then. What did you prattle on about at that tiii? My dear comrades, my beloved ladies. Do you rember—?”
“I rember.”
“I rember.”
“I rember well.”
“His Highness Dantalian was leading the troops and passing through the humble encampnt, but they obstructed our path. They threw snowballs at us. It was piles of snow that were sared in mud. We had no other choice but to protect His Highness with our lowly bodies. We didn’t even hope that soone would wipe our bodies, but His Highness personally wiped our clothes clean.”
The witches giggled in a low tone. Their laughter easily seeped into the low air of the night sky. The laughter flowing from the witches was uniquely light. I believed that that was the case because they had thrown away their lives sowhere. As their proof for having thrown it away sowhere, the witches cackled as they pulled up sothing that had happened a fair while ago.
— For Your Honor’s mistress to be an outcast, general to be a human, and royal bodyguards to be witches, Your Honor’s good faith impales the sky. Indeed, it’s befitting of the King of Peasants.
— You must be very fortunate to be so popular with won, Your Honor! Please teach the people how to bed lowly harlots and spread the information throughout the world.
— Does Your Honor plan to cut us lowly subjects down? That’s fine. Since Your Honor had stabbed the throat of His Highness Andromalius in order to save the life of a succubus whore, then killing dozens or hundreds of us lowly subjects for the sake of those witches should also be possible, right?
— Please step over our corpses with Your Honor’s grace.
Although it was sothing that had happened a fairly long ti ago, the witches rembered it well as it was not sothing that had occurred quite a long ti ago.
Each witch took a role and they recited to each other the lines which the soldiers had uttered on that day. As they continued to recite the lines, the shadows that were digging into the necks of the soldiers dug in further. The sound of gulping resonated here and there.
“Master?”
“Our master.”
“These fellows took out their swords first so how should they be tortured?”
I nodded.
“How unsightly. But how can they be used if they are killed just because they are unsightly?”
“Then what should be done?”
“Kill only one.”
Blood scattered.
“······.”
“······.”
It happened late in the night.
The front of the spring rain had battered the Habsburg Empire and it wasn’t until three or four days ago that the rain had departed a bit towards the south. The rain clouds had sprayed an abundant supply of water on the ground, allusively proving its legacy. On the horizon of the Bruno Plains, only the puddles of water heading south were infinite. When the nurous torches spread throughout the encampnt shines on those surfaces of water, it becos beautiful as the puddles beco radiant.
At the bottom of the hill, in that nirvana that was half-water and half-dirt, unknown soldiers were shouting fiercely. Although I could not see the soldiers, the torches displayed their shadows and those shadows shouted with their black maws.
— Kill the traitors!
The legs of the shadows were buried up to their calves in each pool of muddy water. Within the vicinity of their buried calves, as one might suspect, the mouth of so unknown corpse was subrged. The mouths could not possibly drink all of the muddy water. Be that as it may, they could not disgorge the water either.
They were rely subrged underneath the surface of the water.
They rely sank as if they were in a swamp.
Muddy water entered the opened mouths of the corpses and the surface levels of the pools shrunk according to the extent of those mouths. It felt as if that was the corpses’ way of digging their own graves. It was a gravesite all around.
— ······.
In the center of the land that was filled with graves in every direction, Farnese continued to perform her song. The night sky overshadowed the world, making it seem as if everything was wrapped in black vinyl. On that surface, Farnese’s performance beca gloss and simred. In each spot that the starlight shone down upon, the girl’s performance crawled up like a snake’s tongue and licked the lower parts of the starlight.
Thus, as the spewed up clamorous cries from the shadows ford a low key and Farnese’s escalating sound ford a major key, the already dead corpses occasionally sunk down to the bottom as silence, resulting in music resonating throughout the land that was filled with graves.
— Kill them!
The shadows shouted. Or perhaps, their mouths did.
— ······.
Farnese perford. Or perhaps, her fingers did.
— Slaughter them······.
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