Barbatos left rather unexpectedly early.
She insisted it was because "as regent, I can't just be idling about."
A plausible excuse, but the truth was different. She had gotten up early out of consideration for me, the patient. That said, Barbatos was not the type to express such things out loud — and I loved that part of her.
If I were ever to marry, wouldn't someone like Barbatos be ideal? I sketched out married life in my head. The image came together with surprising ease.
Even if we had children, Barbatos would absolutely never raise them herself. She'd find it tedious and dump the responsibility on someone else. Predictable to the last.
When I inevitably tried to raise the child on my own, everyone around me would step in to stop me. They would unanimously object, saying, "We cannot entrust the education of a child to Lord Dantalion, of all people." I'd shout that it was my child and I'd raise them myself — what was their problem? — but nobody would listen……
So who would raise our child? Hard to say. It would probably end up being a communal effort.
Laura, who spends most of her time idling about with nothing to do, would play with the child. Occasionally, Lapis, Daisy, and Ivar would chime in after finishing their work.
Eventually, once the child grew a little older and wiser, they would start following Jeremy around. They'd turn into an unruly little troublemaker and turn our Demon Lord's army and territory completely upside down. Ivar would try to rein them in with "Young master, young master!" but it would have absolutely no effect.
Barbatos wouldn't be able to stop her own child, let alone she'd sit there snickering and praising them. I'd just stand off to the side, heaving heavy sighs.
What a beautiful dream. A Demon Lord cannot bear children. It's nothing but fantasy. And yet, a smile forms on my face of its own accord…… Why is that?
As people grow, they come to realize what is impossible for them.
I cannot become a hero. I cannot become a revolutionary. I cannot become an artist. The path that remains for me grows ever clearer. For instance, while I may not be able to become a sovereign who leads people, I can certainly become one who incites, manipulates, and humiliates them.
Dantalion is one who incites, manipulates, and humiliates.
Whether I want it or not, that is my identity. There is no reason to be overly saddened by it. After all, it's not as though I chose to be born in the first place. That life solidifies into a shape I never wanted is only natural……
And yet, there is an exceedingly rare breed of person who falls into a peculiar line of thought.
They do not find their identity in "me." Their gaze drifts elsewhere — as though a broader, more expansive horizon exists beyond.
People can give many names to that invisible horizon.
For instance, humanity.
Nation.
World.
I can manipulate and humiliate others. I'm free to do so as much as I please. But is it acceptable for all of humanity to do the same? Is that truly what a good world should look like.
Deceiving others, murdering them, raping them without a second thought — is that really how this world is supposed to be.
Should we simply let that stand.
This small minority quietly declares: "No."
I may be wretched. I may be selfish. But humanity must not be. No matter how selfish and demonic I may be at present, the ideal that all of humanity must aspire to — the shape it must ultimately take — is the exact opposite.
These people look their own wretchedness squarely in the eye, and yet at the same time say: "No."
This rabble of madmen, when faced with any situation, do not ask "What should I do?" but rather "What should humanity do?"
When slaughter unfolds before their eyes, they answer "I should run away," while simultaneously answering "Humanity must not tolerate this," and then adopt the latter sentence as their own answer.
They are insane.
They invoke humanity as a whole, the world as a whole — things that do not even exist in the flesh — and act as though they are real, and furthermore as though they constitute their own identity. If that is not the delusion of a madman, what is?
And yet perhaps there is a morbid beauty in it. One might say it is a disease of the world, and that people have suffered from this epidemic since the dawn of time…
"Dantalion."
When I opened my two eyes, an endless expanse of pure white space stretched out before me.
Had I fallen asleep without realizing it? I knew this place was a dream. I had been invited here once before.
"…Paimon."
The red-haired woman smiled faintly.
"I was worried that I might have disturbed you, in case you were tired."
"It's fine. Over the past ten days, I feel like I've gotten the best sleep of my entire life."
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I suppose I'll make up for the rest of my sleep once I'm in the grave, for all eternity."
"......"
Oh. I'd meant it as a light joke, but Paimon's expression darkened. She looked sorrowful, and there was something in her face that seemed like reproach.
"The trust of the Batavia Republic has fallen to the ground, and the Habsburg Republic has been backed into a corner. The new government of Franck lacks the power to unite the continent. There is no faction left to lead the republicans anywhere. ...Dantalion, just as you wished."
"......"
"Why?"
Paimon's eyes grew hazy with tears.
"All I want is peace. I just want to see that worn-out word actually come true for once... You, of all people, should know that better than anyone... Why? Why?"
Her wretched voice matched her wretched face.
And because of that, it was more piercing than any tone or expression could have been, and I had no choice but to take the sharp arrowhead of her emotions head-on.
"Hurting yourself — is that really the only way...? I don't want to hurt you!"
"Neither do I, Paimon."
I quietly took a step toward her.
"I don't want to see you hurt. I don't want to watch you and Barbatos kill each other. So please..."
"Don't come any closer!"
My feet came to a halt.
"You're despicable and selfish! You act like you don't know anything when you know everything... You've driven hundreds of thousands to their deaths, so why can't you just let a woman like me die in peace! Just let the girl do as she wishes and die... Just let her foolishly destroy herself...!"
For a moment, only the sound of weeping filled the silence.
I couldn't approach her, nor could I find the words to speak to her.
I wondered how Paimon felt when she heard I'd self-harmed. Paimon was noble-hearted but tender. It must have tormented her. She'd have suffered more from the fact that I'd harmed myself than from her plans crumbling.
Knowing — no, *because* I knew — Paimon would be tormented, I'd driven a dagger into my own abdomen. To drown her in guilt. To make her abandon the plan of sowing division among the Demon Lord's forces of her own free will.
This is who I am.
One who mocks and humiliates the convictions of others.
"......"
I quietly drew the dagger from my waist. I'd realized it last time: in this dream, my appearance always took the form I was most comfortable in. I always kept a dagger on my person.
"...Dantalion?"
Had she sensed something off in my movements? Paimon turned to look at me, her tear-streaked face filled with concern.
I reversed my grip on the dagger. I angled the tip precisely at the nape of my neck. Horror spread across Paimon's eyes. She reached out toward me.
"No!"
Before her fingertips could reach me, I drove the blade hard into the center of my throat. Surprisingly, there was little pain. My tongue was pushed upward, and my vision began to fade away.
Then I woke from the dream.
The pure white space was gone. This was the room where my real body lay. I rubbed my neck with my palm — an unconscious gesture — and laboriously pulled myself up from the bed.
I'd been lying flat for over ten days straight. Naturally, my body couldn't follow my commands properly. I practically rolled off the bed and tumbled onto the floor.
My entire body screamed at me: *you can't move yet.* My knees wouldn't hold, and I couldn't stand. Fortunately, there was a suitable rod nearby — a silver curtain rod.
"Ugh..."
I used it as a crutch and hauled myself halfway up. My limbs were trembling. But yes — this was manageable. There had been times when my condition was far worse than this. I could endure this much.
Stumbling, I made my way toward the door. A Succubus could only show dreams to someone nearby. If Paimon had appeared in the dream, it meant she was somewhere in this mansion.
I fell five times just getting from the bed to the door. It might have been faster to crawl, but if I lay down on this floor now, I was certain I'd lose consciousness for real. I clung desperately to awareness and pressed on, and pressed on.
And when I opened the door —.
There sat Paimon on the floor.
She didn't know what to do. Her face was a mess from crying, and she stared up at me with dazed eyes. Her pretty face had twisted up so badly that I actually let out a laugh. I had no strength, so it was only the faintest curl at the corners of my mouth.
Leaning on my staff, I barely managed to squeeze out the words one at a time.
"You're… a coward, Paimon."
"……."
"You were scared to meet me in person. How should I apologize? What kind of face should I meet him with… you didn't know, so you crossed over through a dream. Truly, an unbelievable coward…"
I know this. Her essence isn't that of an idealist.
If you were truly an idealist, you would have forced your beliefs on others without hesitation. On the Bruno Plains, you saved me at the cost of your own mana. Why. Why did you do something so absurd.
"You don't want to sacrifice anyone… whether it's the demons, or me… so instead you decided to sacrifice yourself — to eradicate the Demon Lord race entirely."
"……."
"The reason war happens is because the Demon Lords exist as an alien presence… so you thought you'd just sacrifice yourself. Since you don't want to hurt anyone… the only option left is to hurt yourself."
Whether that obsession stemmed from the rank of Succubus, or from Paimon's own nature, I couldn't tell.
"The Plains Faction will be powerful in fifty years, so unrest must be stirred before then… Fine. But you don't exactly have confidence in winning either. Every Demon Lord besides you will certainly unite against you. Can you beat them?"
"I, I…"
"You probably thought it didn't matter if you couldn't win. If you lost, you'd just be the one to fall alone. That's how you see it."
It had been the same during the Crescent Alliance Army's war.
If I had been in Paimon's position, I would never have given Barbatos time to deliberate. I would have allied with Elizabeth and launched a coordinated assault almost immediately. Justifications could be manufactured endlessly.
And yet she gave Barbatos days to mull over surrender. Back then, I thought Paimon had been drunk on certainty of victory, growing arrogant.
But now I understood. She simply didn't have the nerve to impose her ideals on others… even knowing that a massacre was necessary, she couldn't carry one out. The reason is simple. She lacks absolute conviction that she's right.
It must have been the same in the original game's scenario. She had the chance to kill the Hero, but let it slip away. Why. Because she knew the Hero was a noble human being. You knew you had to kill the Hero for the sake of the demons, yet in the end you settled for taking your own life instead.
Paimon. You are far too compassionate to drench an entire continent in blood.
"If that's not the case, then kill me right here and now."
I looked her straight in the eyes.
"I swear that I will continue to stand in your way from this point forward. I am your greatest obstacle and your heaviest stumbling block... If you have the resolve to realize your ideals even by killing me, then go ahead and prove it...!"