I steeled myself to accept Dantalion's last words.
Whatever she chose to leave behind, I would never forget it. Not merely the shape of her words, but the nuances woven through each sentence, the breath behind them, the emotions — all of it would stay with me from now on. Dantalion would become someone who could only speak and gesture within my world.
Even if that mouth produced nothing but curses and those gestures aimed only to tighten around my throat, it was fine. Being able to keep seeing Dantalion in that way, when you thought about it, might actually be a stroke of luck. No — that would mean I'd have to acknowledge the visions as real, wouldn't it… A dilemma either way.
Dantalion and I locked eyes.
"……."
"……."
Among all the filth of my time, Dantalion alone had been radiant.
A Demon Lord was like dust that settled lightly upon the ground — the moment you let your guard down, you lost your personhood. The ability to feel other people's emotions was not a blessing but a curse. I couldn't even be sure my own heart was truly mine……
It would probably be normal to cope the way Andromalius did, drowning in gambling and drink. But among all the Demon Lords, Dantalion possessed an incomparably solid sense of self. Every word she uttered seemed to ring out endlessly like a symphony of triumph: *I am Dantalion. I am Dantalion.*
I thought it was beautiful.
I was smitten almost at first sight.
What makes you different from me, Dantalion? I still can't grasp it. The more you strive to be Dantalion, the more your anthem to yourself spreads across the night sky like fireworks. So why is it that the more I try to be myself, the more I cling to what I've set for myself — the more "I" itself seems to disappear?
Dantalion, I ask you with the deepest tears.
Why is life for you a triumph and a blessing?
Why is having nothing at all the end of the line for me?
I don't so much love you as revere you. What I craved was simply to live alongside you. Please understand — from the very beginning, I was an outsider. I had not been given permission to live in this world, and so I had to prove my own existence by my own hand.
But what was the very first thing I ever did in this world? It was murder! And after that came slaughter! From that day forward, my life had been devoted entirely to justifying those first massacres. In other words, I had no path other than to live as a villain.
Dantalion.
Please.
Dantalion.
"……."
And then she gently sank to both knees.
She said nothing. There was no unusual gesture, no glance. Dantalion simply looked into my eyes one final time and bowed her head with an utterly ordinary motion. I stared at her blankly — and then I realized.
Without any last words.
Dantalion had chosen to die without leaving a single word.
Because she had noticed that I could see visions. Because she knew that anything she said would become a shackle upon me — Dantalion had elected to die in silence rather than speak at all.
My entire body went numb with shock.
This couldn't be.
You had something you wanted to ask me. You could ask whether I had loved you, and surely the desire to ask would be there. No — at the very least, you would be driven mad wanting to ask about your subordinates, the Plains Faction Demon Lords, and what had become of them.
But a question was not a last word. What about a last word? Dantalion, this is your end. You, who have lived for thousands upon thousands of years, must have something you want to leave behind to this world for the last time. Rather, there must be emotions, grudges, gratitude, curses swelling in your chest that a thousand sentences and ten thousand words could never capture.
You're giving all of that up……?
Just so you won't leave a curse on someone like me?
That — for that alone — you will remain silent about everything you've lived through?
"Don't make me laugh!"
The shout erupted from me before I knew it. And it was sincere. My body had already slipped beyond my control. My hand shot out on its own and seized a fistful of Dantalion's hair.
And then I realized one more thing. Dantalion had closed her eyes. The reason was simple: to deny me her final gaze. My fury surged even higher, and I yanked her face toward me.
"Leave me words! Look into my eyes!"
I struck her across the cheek. Yet Dantalion didn't so much as flinch. The citizens in the square must have thought this was some interlude of theatrical torture, because they roared their approval. I stomped on her instep and slapped her face again and again, until she opened her mouth, until she opened her eyes.
The longer the violence continued, the hotter the square's fervor grew. Yet around us, everything was the opposite — as if she and I had been sealed off from the surroundings, the outside cheering and clapping faded until almost nothing could be heard.
"……Kahat."
Dantalion laughed.
"You're a thousand years too early to lie to me, Dantalion."
"Lie…… What nonsense."
"Paimon. You told me you stabbed her in the back of the neck on purpose so she wouldn't have time to leave a long last word. How clumsy. If you thought such an absurd trick could fool this body, you truly are an idiot. Geez, it was so convincing I almost bought it."
Dantalion cracked her eyes open slightly and looked at me.
"After thinking it over in my cell, the story didn't add up. If you truly didn't want to hear her last word, you should have cut her head clean off, right? Or you could have ordered that little bodyguard of yours to kill Paimon instead. But no — you said this: one stab to the back of the neck, one to the back, then another to the nape — you drove the dagger in three times……"
Dantalion's mouth twisted.
"What does that mean? Simple. Dantalion, you killed Paimon while holding her in your arms. That's the only position that works. Huh. Weird, don't you think? Hmm? Something smells fishy — or am I imagining it?"
"……."
"The man who supposedly killed Paimon quickly because he couldn't stand the visions, yet actually killed her by wrapping his whole body around her? And he didn't even slit her throat? Stupid Dantalion — that's a contradiction. The story doesn't work."
My teeth were chattering. I could taste blood inside my mouth.
"It was the opposite, Dantalion. You didn't stab Paimon in the neck to prevent her from leaving a last word. You did it precisely because you wanted to hear the most concentrated last words possible. You got as close to Paimon as you could, chose the most humiliating method to betray her, and deliberately selected a killing technique that would wring out the most agonizing curse."
Dantalion let out a scoff.
"Don't try to deceive me. I'm not that laughable a woman. I'm in a completely different league from the likes of Paimon. You think I'll die the way you want me to? Listen carefully to what I'm about to say, idiot."
Dantalion brought her face close to mine. She whispered, her breath tinged with a faint trace of amusement.
"I don't resent you."
"……."
"I was the one who trusted you. I was the one who liked you. I was the one who gave you far too much power and handed you the chance to betray me. I was the one who ordered Paimon's death. So the death I'm meeting now is entirely my own responsibility, Dantalion — not because of some man like you."
When I froze, unable to respond at all, Dantalion sighed softly. It felt like she was muttering: *Honestly, what am I going to do with you.*
"But, fine. I'll leave you with this much at least. I'm sorry. Dantalion."
"……."
"I'm sorry."
What was she sorry for?
What on earth could she be saying she was sorry about?
"Ah…… uh, ah……."
For some reason, my vision blurred. Objects wavered in a haze. If I delayed any longer, it would be dangerous. I wouldn't be able to kill her. I wouldn't be able to do what I had to do. And then I would lose.
I would come to love Dantalion too much.
I couldn't let that happen.
That must not happen.
I was someone who had to remain an unrepentant villain to the very end. I could not use the excuse that I loved her, that I didn't want to kill her, to flee from this. I could not tarnish the countless lives I had massacred until now. I could not try to excuse myself to them by saying that I too was nothing more than an ordinary human being who knew love.
I could not accept absolution.
"You idiot…… What are you doing."
Beyond my blurred vision, I heard Dantalion's voice. As though brushing along the edge of my ear, Dantalion spoke. There was something blurred in her voice, too.
"Hurry up and kill me, you son of a bitch."
With that single push on my back.
I raised the sword. I couldn't regret not being able to hold Dantalion's final image clearly in my eyes, but there was nothing to be done. I had to kill her. Now. Only at this very moment was it possible for me to kill her.
—I kill Dantalion
Clutching desperately at a sword hilt that felt like it might slip from my fingers at any second.
Bracing desperately at knees that felt like they might buckle and collapse at any second.
Toward her neck, without hesitation, in a single strike, I kill her.
"……."
Dantalion bowed her head.
At the same instant, my blade plunged downward.
I should never have met you from the start. No — when the adventuring party came storming in, I should have simply let myself be captured and died at the hands of some nameless condemned prisoner. That would have been far better. At the very least, I wouldn't have hurt you.
Someone like me should never have been born.
Before killing anyone, I should have killed myself first.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted to live so badly that I slaughtered people. And having lived that way, at some point I had become someone who was no longer permitted to die. I had become a being who was denied a meaningless death or suicide.
If only there truly were a hell somewhere in this world.
Then, in that place, I would finally confess to you that I was sorry.
I would apologize to you.
For the me who cannot bring himself to say sorry to you right now — please, do not forgive me.
And I brought the sword all the way down.
—The ring of steel echoed.
My right hand was flung aside.
A moment later, the Sword of Bael spun through the air like a windmill and embedded itself deep in the ground. Pain shooting through my right hand twisted my expression. Grimacing like a demon, I turned my head to the side.
"I'm sorry."
There, where the voice had come from.
"Master."
Daisy sat with her legs folded beneath her, gazing at me in quiet defiance.
I stared at her blankly, then gradually grasped the situation. At the very instant I had moved to kill Dantalion, Daisy had swept her leg upward and knocked the back of my hand away. The impact had sent the greatsword flying from my grip.
"How dare…… you, how dare you do something like this……!"
"I have struggled with this more times than I can count."
Daisy looked me straight in the face. Her ink-black eyes reflected nothing but me alone.
"For countless nights, across a span of time I cannot begin to count, I agonized. The reason you kept me alive. The reasons I should not kill you, and the reasons I must kill you. Which was right, which I had to choose — I thought and thought and thought again."
But, Daisy continued.
"Now I am certain."
She extended her palm toward the Sword of Bael. At once, the greatsword was drawn by Daisy's mana and returned to her grip. Daisy raised the Sword of Bael toward me.
"I will stop you."
And the girl declared, her black hair streaming in the wind.
"My name is Daisy von Custos. With every last drop of my life — Demon Lord Dantalion — I will stand in your way from this moment forward."