Sin and Punishment (2)

<Dantalian of the 'Ninth Corpses'< p>

Danger Rating : S

Size : ?

Found in: 'Serpent's Womb', deep within the Doomed Gate

-Known as the Ninth Corpse.

One of the Ten Calamities, natural enemies of mankind, inscrutable and unkillable.

"Because of the disease, boils will be rampant."

– The Book of the Ten Commandments 10: 1.

Puddeudeudeuk!

The human's mask shattered, and his demonic form burst forth from within.

Vikir watched it all with a calm demeanor.

'...At last.'

Dantalian. The Nine corpse.

Old, young, child, woman, man, handsome, beautiful, ugly, pretty, fat, thin, black, white, yellow, noble, slave, rich, beggar, hero, villain...

With 36 heads, faces, and identities, this demon has a humanoid body and a grim-looking suit.

Each of its thirty-six faces had a purple tongue that could be extended to any length, and the tip was sharper than a blade.

Vikir was able to recall the past from the appearance of this demon, which was as grotesque as ever, with only the shape of the faces differing.

'Dantalian, the 'Thousand Faces'. The one who killed the most of my companions.'

Before his regression, Vikir had lost countless allies to the demon before him.

Vikir had lost countless companions to this demon before his eyes, and so had he, for Dantalian has the ability to steal the faces of those he kills.

Mother, father, older brother, younger brother, older sister, older sister, grandmother, grandfather, best friend, respected teacher, beloved student, childhood friend, fiancé, fiancee, first love, unrequited love, etc… … In addition, any comrades who hesitated or hesitated even for a moment against Dantalian, who had all kinds of faces, would inevitably be pierced to death by his blade-like tongue.

And it was Dantalian who, with the face he had stolen, killed his comrades, his family, and his lovers, over and over again.

Therefore, as Vikir, who had the experience of losing countless comrades to the bastard, he had no choice but to evaluate Dantalian this way.

'A demon that must be killed early on.'

Regardless of his strength, he will cause the most damage to the Human Alliance in the future, so it would be beneficial to eliminate him early on.

Right then.

Tsutsutsutsutsuts...

The smell of rotting flesh washed over them, along with a disgusting aura.

Vikir quickly stepped back.

Dantalian was a demon with countless faces, but he was also known as a plague-bringer.

It was perfect for a fake cleric who could create plagues and reap them, all the while putting on a gentle face.

But in this case, it was a good thing.

For now, Vikir had Dolores behind him.

…Pow!

Dolores emitted a divine light that blocked the Dantalian plague fog.

She opened her mouth with a stern expression.

"...Why?"

[Ho-ho-ho-ho- why? What reason?]

Dolores' throat tightened at Dantalian's question.

"Why would you come to the human realm and do this, why would you do this in the orphanage...!"

Then the thirty-six faces staring down at Dolores smirked in unison.

He doesn't say anything about the 'gate' that the ten demons are trying to open, other than his original lament, of course.

He did, however, readily reveal the reason he was keeping another chick in the orphanage.

[It's a kind of "farm" operation].

"What?"

Dolores asked, and Dantalian replied, still with a frown.

[See this?]

He held up a golden necklace in his hand.

Dolores could only frown as she realized that it was something that some of the children in the orphanage wore around their necks.

Then, Dantalian said.

[This means 'meat for breeding'].

"...!"

Dantalian's next words stiffened Dolores' expression even more.

[We demons live off of humans, just like you humans live off of beasts, so I've had a change of heart. Rather than hunt them down every time, I'd rather make them into farms and raise them like livestock, like dogs and pigs.]

"What, what?"

["Let them breed in here, increase their population, take care of their meat, and then eat them when they reach a certain age. How efficient is that? It's a win-win situation.]

"Crazy! How is that a win-win!"

[It's a win-win. The orphans in the orphanage here were destined to never be born, die at birth, or end up on the streets at a young age, but thanks to me, they're here, and they're safe and sound until they're in their late teens. Of course, after a certain age, their meat becomes tough and tasteless, so we have to eat them before then. Ho-ho-ho-ho!"]

"Ughhhh..., how dare you do this behind the name of a religious hymn! You will be punished, you demon!"

Dolores shouted in fury.

But when Dantalian heard the word 'punishment', his seventy-two eyes widened in confusion.

[Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho- Heavenly punishment? I'm not guilty of anything!]

A passing dog would laugh at the idea that a demon who lured and ate poor children was innocent.

But Dantalian seemed to really think so.

Because.

[I have these things].

Next, Dantalian pulled a bundle of scraps of paper from his arms.

I recognized them as bills, but they were a bit smaller than that.

Dantalian scattered them into the air.

The red writing and seal on the white paper looked like a kind of pagan talisman.

"This is ...."

Dolores stared at the fluttering white bits of paper, dumbfounded.

'All sins of this faithful church member are forgiven.'

– This indulgence was issued and guaranteed by the Old Order and counterfeiting can result in punishment. –

㊞

'All penalties of this faithful church member are forgiven.'

– This indulgence was issued and guaranteed by the Old Order and counterfeiting can result in punishment. –

㊞

This 'indulgence', stamped with a cardinal's seal, is a verified and guaranteed assurance by the Order of Runes that the penitent's sins and punishments have been forgiven.

Dantalian had many such indulgences and pardons in his possession.

["Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! I paid a hefty tribute and received these certificates, so I'm not guilty of anything, by your standards."]

It is the way of the world that if you commit a sin, you must be punished.

However, it is also possible to be exempt from punishment, or even to be pardoned for the sin in the first place.

It was a law that the Quovadis of the Faith recognized, creating an ironic situation in which the source of sin, the demon, was acquitted.

Shocked and at a loss for words, Dolores turned to Dantalian.

[Oh, by the way, the man who issued me these deeds is your father].

"...!?"

[Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! As I piled up the gold chests like a mountain, they got so loud that they stamped them all over my head.]

Dolores' father is Cardinal Humbert, who is known as an iconic figure of the Old Order and a hard-nosed principalist... who unconditionally upholds classical law.

However, he was an ambitious man who tried to take over the family by amassing a lot of wealth in return for selling indulgences behind the scenes.

As a result, even the sins of the demon that could never be forgiven were forgiven.

"...."

Dolores staggered back in shock at the realization of her father's identity.

It could not be easily accused of being a heresy or a cult.

It was as if a sore within the family had festered and grown into a terrifying tumor.

[Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! And I am innocent, for I have received a pardon for all my sins directly from your Rune Order... Huh!?]

But Dantalian could no longer smirk at Dolores.

For a single blade tore open two of his flapping mouths in quick succession.

" ...When dealing with demons."

Night Hound. Vikir plucked a long tongue from the mouth of Dantalian's third face and held it in his hand.

"Don't play with the tongue."

At the same time, Vikir yanked the tongue out and slashed it across the Third Face's face with an awl.

[Ouch!]

Dantalian screamed again.

It gaped at the remaining faces.

The tongues, stained purple, were sharp as blades.

However, the speed at which Vikir wielded the magic sword Beelzebub was much faster.

…Clang, clang, clang!

The sword, quenched with malice and forged with hatred, spewed out a red-hot trail.

Dantalian cried out in horror as faces exploded one after another.

[You, you wretch, how dare you point your sword at me!]

Then, the first face that Dantalian recognized turned to look at Vikir.

It was an old woman with a gentle, warm smile.

Who says you can't spit on a face that smiles in its sleep?

But.

…Boom!

Vikir sliced the old woman's face in two with a relentless blow.

The grandfather's face followed suit.

[What a bastard!]

Dantalian gritted his teeth and pulled out a new face.

It was the face of a pretty woman, a young actress whose stock was rising these days.

However.

…Boom!

Vikir swung his sword relentlessly this time.

No matter what face appeared behind him, the result was the same.

…clang! …clang! …clang! …clang! …clang! …clang! …clang! …clang!

A bright child, a sexy woman, an old, helpless man..., all of their faces had become a side dish for the sword.

At this point, Dantalian is rather bewildered.

His faces are skinned from the faces of real people, and he can recreate their expressions and voices.

How is it that this creature in front of him can't even be moved like a grain of rice?

[You inhuman creature, I am more human than you!]

"...."

Vikir ignored Dantalian's words and struck again.

…Pfft!

Blood splashed in a sickening black-green color, and Dantalian staggered backward.

The spears of his tongue, his primary weapon, were much reduced in number.

New faces were regenerating, but Vikir was much faster at destroying them.

'I had enough of them before the regression. I'm not going to get the same amount of them twice.'

The Face of a Thousand Faces The faces and voices of Dantalian mimics are nothing but mimics.

In his previous life, Vikir realized this only after losing many of his comrades.

So there was no reason or room for guilt at this moment.

"Keep your neck open."

Vikir stepped forward, brushing the foul blood from his sword.

Then a sickening grin crossed the rest of the Dantalian's faces.

[Ho ho ho! So this is a fellow who doesn't care much for others, then how about this?]

Suddenly, all of Dantalian's faces began to change in unison.

They belonged to boys and girls under the age of thirteen.

They were the faces of the children of the orphanage.

Vikir replied in a dry voice.

"I've smashed the faces of many children before, do you think I'll do it again now?"

[Ho ho ho! Of course it won't work on you].

"...!"

The words stopped Vikir in his tracks for a moment.

That's right.

Dantalian wasn't messing with Vikir's mind right now, but with the mind of Dolores behind him.

St. Dolores had been volunteering here for years now, caring for many children.

Some of them she'd bonded with, others she'd adopted to good homes and never saw again.

... But it wasn't.

None of those kids went to a good place.

Because they were all 'here'.

[Awww! Sis! I missed you!]

[Sis! Help me! It hurts so much!]

[Sis! Sis! Sis! Sis! Get me out of here!]

[It hurts, sis! Hmph – ugh – I was wrong!]

Countless faces bloomed over Dantalian's body like a bouquet of flowers in a vase.

The children from the orphanage that Dolores had met every weekend since she was a freshman in her first year at the academy until she became the student council president in her third year.

As they groaned and cried out in unison, Vikir was silent for a moment.

She was sure she wouldn't fall for this kind of emotional manipulation.

But Dolores, saint of the Rune Order, paragon of all, lover of all the less fortunate?

Vikir shifted, feeling a vague sense of unease.

And jerked his head back.

"...!"

Behind the mask, Vikir's eyes widened slightly.

Then a dry voice scratched his throat.

"...indeed. A hero is a hero."

At the same time.

…Pow!

An intense flash of white light pierced him in the eye.

[kkeuheug!?]

Dantalian stumbled backwards as the heat scorched his body.

Cheeeeeeeek… …

Burning black smoke rose from the body exposed to the bright light.

Then, Dolores's voice drifted out of the white haze of light.

Extremely calm, yet bubbling with anger hotter than lava.

"...You touched something you shouldn't have."

That was the voice.

And the moment he heard her 'awakened' voice.

…Creepy!

Vikir felt a weak shudder.

The battlefield before the regression, when all was lost.

The last spark of hope, the ray of light that always managed to pull off a miraculous reversal, even in the midst of despair when the odds seemed tilted against them.

For a brief moment, I felt a nostalgic sense of the second coming of Dolores, the Saint of Steel, humanity's last hero.