Commander of the Army of Scorn.
Maestro Virtus.
The orchestra played by this madman, crazed for his art, draws its listeners into a single theatrical play.
Strictly speaking, it’s a large-scale illusion that deceives the five senses and perception.
You could call it Magic, perhaps, but not a single magician has ever defined it as such.
Mana is certainly at work, but it operates in a way that outright denies all known principles of magic, and by performing a single piece, the listeners are transformed into actors on its stage.
This is the ability Virtus received directly from the Demon King, a power granted to him when he refused to fully become a member of the Demon Race even after rising to the rank of Corps Commander.
‘Overture of Illusions (幻像哭).’
Regardless of one’s mental strength or abilities, all who listen are swept into the play.
And that play continues until the piece ends.
‘What’s the next line?’
[Wishes always collapse on clear days.]
[On the day the sheep that ignored the warning head beyond the fence.]
[The world, full of malice, stains the sheep black.]
[Praise, sing hymns, for the sheep stained in black shall bear all the world’s malice.]
The fanatical followers who once played so brightly had grown, just a little.
Watching them, I could sense that I was witnessing the journey of these young believers as they became true fanatics.
Then, one of those fanatic children approached me.
‘He must be cut down.’
Once you’ve become an actor led by the musical score, you have to move according to that score.
As that thought rapidly seized my mind, I nearly struck down the illusion before my eyes, but barely held back and continued with the play.
‘Until the Overture of Illusions is completed, I cannot touch Virtus.’
If the play were to end before reaching its perfect conclusion, Virtus, feeling self-loathing over his failed performance, would flee like a bolt of lightning.
He’s so adept at escaping that even I, who once slew the Demon King, wouldn’t be able to catch him.
Therefore, I cannot yet try to break free from this play.
If I were to escape from this space too easily, it’s clear I’d never see that bastard’s face again.
Rather than have him vanish so completely I could never find him, I need to catch and kill him for certain, so that humanity will hold a definite advantage in our future battles with the Demon King’s Army.
The young fanatic who had approached me asked,
“My name is Jun. Who are you?”
“Owen.”
“I will die by your hand, just this once.”
I didn’t ask why.
There was no point.
‘All according to the script.’
The score that was woven about my body like threads moved my hand.
I didn’t resist.
There was no reason to resist now.
“What happens after?”
Instead, I asked the one question that had arisen.
The child who called himself Jun answered.
“I become a sheep stained black.”
Swish!
I swung my sword, but instead of striking Jun, the blade somehow landed on the back of the Saintess who had led the fanatics.
The blood of the Saintess, who shielded Jun, spattered everywhere, and the score entered her body, making even more blood fountain out.
The prelude was over.
[On the day the sheep stained black look down upon their mother’s shell.]
[The world’s malice watches over them.]
[The young lambs who followed the Saintess wander lost in the mist.]
[Whom should they praise? Whom should they worship?]
The five children, having lost their mother, fell into confusion, and at the same time, with the Saintess gone, the Demon King’s forces began to invade the Sacred Land.
The Sacred Land was engulfed in flames, and the hands of Demons, Demonic Beasts, and the Demon Race spread everywhere.
The sheep stained black struggled to escape the hands of death, fleeing and fighting to survive.
“Hoo.”
Unconsciously, I realized that I was cast as the Demon Race in this play.
Me, the Hero, playing the role of the Demon Race in Virtus’s play?
It’s a truly wretched tale.
Yet, thanks to it, I could understand how the Sacred Land of the Holy Nation was overrun by the Demon King’s Army.
‘They struck first at the place where the Saint and Saintess candidates gathered.’
And the Saintess who taught them was the first to fall.
‘If that’s the case… those five fanatics were the Saint and Saintess candidates.’
In the Holy Nation, the positions of Saint and Saintess are not limited to just one person.
Because the law held that to restore the world from the Demon King’s domain, there must be more than a single Saint or Saintess.
Of course, that didn’t mean just anyone could be chosen; each Saint and Saintess, acting somewhat like Cardinals under the Pope’s command, numbered no more than ten at a time.
‘Now there can be no next generation of Saint and Saintess.’
Losing the Sacred Land meant not just the loss of ancient technology, but also, more critically, a halt to the emergence of new Saints and Saintesses.
Only those two could simultaneously lead the fight against the Demon King’s Army and restore the world from the Demonic Realm, so from now on, reclaiming the Demon King’s territory for humanity would inevitably slow down.
How long did I chase those five children like that?
The melody began reaching its climax.
[When the world’s malice whispers to the sheep amidst the burning world.]
[The Saintess’s form shall appear behind them.]
[The Saintess, doused in filth, speaks.]
[I will lead you, she says.]
Behind the fleeing children, the Saintess’s figure appeared.
Her soul had been corrupted and polluted by Demons.
Her beauty and sanctity were gone, and with decadent, dead eyes, she looked at the disciples she once taught.
Ironically, it was me controlling this corrupted Saintess from behind.
“God no longer watches over us. We have been forsaken.”
Apostasy flowed from the Saintess’s lips.
The fleeing children, dazed, approached her.
“I see. So God never did anything for us, after all.”
“That’s right. It was only after the Demon King chose me that I finally understood.”
The Saintess opened her arms as if to embrace them.
“Come here. That way is dangerous.”
The fleeing children ran into the Saintess’s embrace.
And when even the small light in the eyes of the sheep already stained black was snuffed out—
The image of a Siren standing beside Virtus began to sing an aria.
[In the name of the Saint, the Saintess, and the Saint Mother.]
[Praise, sing hymns.]
[To the God who shall descend upon our land.]
[Worship Him.]
As the curtain fell on the stage, everything crumbled away.
The illusions, and the script that had bound me to the play.
But even freed from the script, I was still caught by the threads of the score.
No matter.
I never once expected to break free anyway.
Virtus, having finished his performance, turned to me and asked,
“How did you find the process of young believers becoming fanatics?”
I set my foot on the ground.
The earth cracked beneath the force, but that didn’t concern me.
To raise my sword, I tore through the threads of the score that bound my body by force.
The backlash carved wounds across my whole body, but that, too, didn’t concern me.
Boom!
My sword pierced through Virtus’s shoulder.
Even having been struck by a surprise attack, Virtus gazed at me steadily without a hint of disorder.
He was waiting for an answer to his question, so I conveyed my feelings honestly.
“It was utterly damnable.”
“Fufufu, I’m sure it was. After all, you are the Hero.”
Virtus, blood running from his shoulder, moved his arm even with the blade embedded.
Just hearing the crunch of breaking bones, it must be agonizing, but he seemed to care more about keeping his instrument upright.
“They say life is suffering, don’t they? There’s only a difference in what kind of pain you feel—pain is still just pain. It’s not something that can ever be turned into art.”
“And yet you seem to do just that, don’t you?”
“Regrettably, I’m fundamentally different from other artists.”
Virtus ran his hand along the sword that had pierced his shoulder.
Blood trickled from his fingertips.
“For me, pain is life itself. I can’t properly feel any other emotion. Pain is the only thing I can sublimate into art… I’m a malformed creature that way.”
“Hearing that, I can only think I absolutely have to kill you here.”
“Fufu, I’m afraid that will be difficult.”
I swung my sword, cutting through both Virtus’s body and his instrument in one stroke.
With the sound of life ending, a strange scent drifted up to my nose.
‘What is this?’
At that moment, the blood on my blade began to turn into oil.
Virtus’s body, once flesh, innards, and bone, began to change.
His internal organs turned to hard gears, his pounding heart to steel, and his blood vessels to pipes carrying oil.
‘This guy… Was he not human?’
In my previous life, when Ryuk and I fought him, we judged he was human.
At least, he hadn’t died as a puppet body like this.
But what the hell is this situation now?
“This body ends here.”
Virtus, sprawled with his insides exposed, let out a bitter smile.
As I cautiously examined his interior, I grimaced, confirming his true nature.
“No place to house an Artificial Soul… Prasion Kingdom should’ve been unable to make dolls with emotions after revising their ethics laws.”
This was a pure machine.
The problem was, it was a machine with emotions.
“Indeed. Though my creator, my father, apparently had different ideas.”
“So even if I kill you here, your consciousness will just return to your Workshop, won’t it?”
“Perhaps I’ll awaken in another body kept elsewhere?”
“…Ha.”
To think I’d spent all this effort to catch him, and this is how it ends—how pointless.
“So even if I cut you down further, your consciousness will just be transferred elsewhere, right?”
“That’s correct. I was designed that way.”
But I learned one thing for sure.
“To kill you, I’ll have to find wherever your central system is.”
“……”
Virtus closed his eyes in silence.
That alone was answer enough.
Sword in hand, I drove the blade through Virtus’s forehead.
It wasn’t the feeling of piercing flesh and bone, but more like driving it through a lump of iron.
“Next time… let us meet again.”
To that, I bared my teeth and replied,
“You’ll never see me again.”
And with that, I slashed down.
Virtus’s remaining body split in half and ceased to function.
Sheathing my sword and confirming the threads of the score that had bound my body were gone, I immediately turned and headed back to where the Special Task Force would be.
“…What did you just say?”
Facing my subordinates, who had relaxed a bit after fending off the fanatics, I answered lightly.
“I said after three hours of rest, we’ll resume training. Is there a problem?”
“……”
“……”
“……”
“……”
The Special Task Force’s training is not over yet.