——What are you saying.
What had Father just said.
My face stiffened. Nothing came to mind.
"……."
Father's eyes.
Those black eyes, brimming with sorrow, filled my entire field of vision. One second passed. Perhaps three. No, maybe a full minute elapsed in silence. Only then did I manage to let out an "Ah."
This couldn't be happening. I didn't understand what was going on, but whatever the case, this couldn't be allowed. For any reason. Because right now, I was Acting. I had to deceive Father.
It absolutely had to be that way.
"Acting? You're talking in your sleep."
I curled the corner of my lips upward.
"Father's words have always been nonsensical to the point of being incomprehensible, but today of all days, the sheer density of the nonsense is……."
My voice grew quieter and quieter. Father's gaze. Those eyes were the reason my voice had no choice but to trail off. It shrank and shrank until, at some point, it cut out entirely. I belatedly realized that my tongue had stopped moving.
"……is absolutely dreadful. It's meaningless."
I desperately pieced together a sentence and forced it out.
"It seems that since the time has come to die, you'll ramble on about anything. Honestly, it's embarrassing to witness as an adopted daughter. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop."
"……."
Father simply kept looking at me.
So.
"If you've already gone senile, wouldn't it break my heart as a dutiful daughter? If that's supposed to be Father's tactics, then I'm sorely disappointed. Though I suppose Father's words have always been hard to understand."
Wait. That was what I'd said earlier.
I'd repeated the exact same words. A mistake. Wasn't that grounds for disqualification as an actress who'd taken the stage? Even if it was the same content, I should have expressed it more diversely. It was fine. No problem. There weren't many people who could rival my way with words.
So.
"...Father has always been like that in that regard..."
I mean.
What was I supposed to say?
"..."
My mouth went shut.
I clenched my teeth. I gripped the greatsword tightly with both hands. This was all a sham. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Father would see through my Acting. Yet the fact that he was bringing up my Acting—it was nothing more than one of his calculated ploys.
If I just tested it directly, I could find out easily enough.
I raised the greatsword high and swung it down toward Father. Bael's greatsword surged forward in a violent tempest. The blade was aimed straight at Father's face. Anyone could see that my sword strike was no feint, and my killing intent was no pretense.
Father must have had some contingency in place to stop me.
In other words, something would intervene before Father's neck was severed. An assassin hidden by an invisibility spell, perhaps. Or a pre-set magical trap. I had no way of knowing the exact details, but I was certain that something similar—something befitting Father's scheming—would be prepared.
Time crawled forward. The greatsword I swung drew ever closer to Father's body.
"..."
Father didn't so much as flinch. He was still gazing right at me.
What's the matter, Father? My sword will most certainly carve through your neck. If you don't dodge, if you don't block, you'll die in the very next instant. And it won't be just any death. You'll be dying at the hands of the very enemy who drove your beloved lovers to ruin.
The blade drew even closer.
"..."
Even so, Father did not move. No—nothing moved at all. No figure rushed out to block my sword. No magic was activated to restrain my body. The archers merely stood in the distance, holding their bowstrings taut.
What are you doing.
At this rate, Father will truly die. Isn't your duty to protect Father! Stop me now. Shield Father. Otherwise―――.
The blade had now nearly reached Father's face.
If it advanced even slightly further, the greatsword would cut through Father without hesitation.
"Ngh……!?"
I desperately stopped the sword. Pouring every last ounce of strength into both arms, I somehow halted the motion. Perhaps it was because I had forced the blade back — the veins on both forearms, already sliced raw by arrows, burst open.
It still wasn't enough. At this rate, the blade would reach Father's throat before it came to a complete stop!
*No!*
I twisted my entire body. Even the thighs and calves I had deliberately kept relaxed until now — I didn't spare them in this moment. The wounds spat out torrents of blood. Beyond pain, searing agony pierced through every inch of me.
But none of that mattered.
As long as Father was safe, anything happening to my body didn't matter at all.
*Please……!*
Perhaps my desperate wish reached through.
The greatsword stopped just before it made contact with Father's neck.
But completely cutting off its momentum proved impossible. The blade grazed Father's skin ever so slightly, drawing a thin cut. A red bead of blood welled from the wound and trickled down along my greatsword.
"Ah……."
I opened my mouth in a daze.
Even though the greatsword had nearly slit his own throat, Father hadn't flinched. He gazed into my eyes with his endlessly dark pupils. His gaze became a dense net that ensnared me.
"Why……."
I couldn't so much as twitch a single finger. Moving my tongue was all I could manage.
"Why…… why didn't you dodge?"
"……."
"You could have really died. I can't understand it. Why, why……."
"Daisy."
That was when Father took one step forward.
I recoiled and withdrew the greatsword — because if I wasn't careful, it could strike Father. But he kept walking and wrapped both arms tightly around me.
My mind went completely blank, like a sheet of white paper.
For the first time ever, I was in Father's embrace.
His body was less sturdy than frail, so thin it seemed it might collapse at any moment, and it enclosed mine. Father bent his waist slightly to hold me. From within that rigid yet soft, rain-soaked yet narrow-but-wide-enough space, a single thread of voice barely slipped free.
"I'm sorry I didn't understand."
Ah.
"I — this guy, me — I never thought I deserved to be loved. I thought I shouldn't be loved. That's why I believed it was only natural for you to hate me, that you were right to hate me."
Ah, ah —.
My lips trembled.
Every nerve in my body screamed.
This can't be.
This mustn't be.
It was the sound of the world collapsing. Something that must never happen — a catastrophe that had to be stopped no matter the cost — was unfolding before me. The sword slipped powerlessly from my right hand. I couldn't hold on to it.
"But, Daisy. Because of me, you shouldered everything. You tried to take on what I could never carry, in my place."
"Ah…… ah, ah……."
"I'm sorry."
Something trickled down my cheek.
It wasn't my tear. It was a tear shed by my father.
My father — who had always shown me only his strong side, no matter when or where — was holding me tight, sobbing in silence.
"I didn't notice. No, I didn't want to notice. I only believed what was right in front of me. Something like that never existed for a human in the first place, and I let my eyes be captivated by something that was nothing but an illusion. I couldn't see you for who you truly were. All of it — all of it was my fault……."
No.
That's not it.
What I wanted to hear from your mouth wasn't an apology.
I don't want to be the person who burdens you with guilt. Why are you apologizing? Father, why are you apologizing for something again? You did nothing wrong. There is no reason whatsoever for you to apologize!
The one at fault is this world!
It forced you to commit murder. It cast you into a life where survival meant slaughter. So why should you be the one to bear the responsibility? Why does everything end up as your fault?
That makes no sense.
It's wrong.
It shouldn't have happened.
That is why I —
I am going to correct what is wrong.
"Someone like me should never have been born in the first place."
"……!"
I desperately shoved my father's chest away.
"What are you saying……! What kind of nonsense are you spouting!"
"……."
"You haven't done anything wrong, Father! It's the world that's broken. No one takes responsibility, no one has the courage to face things head-on. There isn't a single decent person anywhere — all you can smell is rotting corpses. So why should you be the one to bear it all!"
I screamed the words.
Tears were already streaming down my face.
"Don't apologize to me!"
I could feel my face crumpling into a mess. I wanted to leave behind at least a beautiful face for Father to remember as his last image of me. That was why, even as I fought desperately to cut through the mercenaries' barriers and break through, I had strained with everything I had to keep my face unscathed.
"Please, stop blaming yourself……!"
The agony of a soul being torn apart.
Father had seen through my act.
My script had failed.
"……!"
And in that instant, I realized what Father was going to do.
He no longer hated me. So what would he do from here on out? Would Father abandon his convictions? Would he decide to stop bearing responsibility for the lives he had massacred? And would he try to endure this purgatory alongside me — the one person who understood him — even if it meant living in misery?
That was impossible.
Father was going to kill me.
By killing me, he would cast himself back into the role of perpetrator.
"No, Father……not that! Anything but that!"
This was absolutely unacceptable.
Father had already been reduced to a wreck just from killing Paimon. If he killed me here on top of that? And after my death, he would undoubtedly go on to murder Barbatos as well. Father would lose both me — his sole understanding companion — and Barbatos, his partner, all at once!
I snatched Bael's greatsword from the ground in a flash.
I pointed the tip of the blade at Father. My right arm, already drained of strength like a limp rag, trembled violently.
"You won't be able to bear it, Father……!"
That's right.
Father would never be able to bear it.
He would destroy himself.
"I'd rather……!"
My throat seized up. I tried to finish the sentence, but the words wouldn't come.
I'd rather be the one to kill Father.
Instead of sending Father off to hell, I would grant him a peaceful rest.
It's fine.
No problem.
After all, I would kill Father and then immediately take my own life. It wouldn't be right to send him off alone. For all his faults, Father's specialty was wandering off the path. Without me there to guide him, he wouldn't even be able to find his way.
"……."
"……."
A strange standoff settled between Father and me.
I kept my breathing rough and held the greatsword at the ready. Father had no weapon whatsoever. And yet, it was I who was at a disadvantage. I was painfully aware of my own disadvantage, which only stoked my killing intent further.
Father wanted to kill me without wanting to.
I didn't want to kill Father, but I had to.
Father took one step forward.
I bit down hard on my lip and took one step back.
"Please, I beg you... promise me that you won't kill Barbatos. If you do that, then... then I'll be fine... I don't care if I die...!"
"......"
And then.
Father smiled sadly.
It was the most devastating refusal in the world.