The torment eventually came to an end. Even though Zeroy had done her best to keep treating them, carefully controlling her strength so they wouldn't die too quickly while suffering—
They still couldn't last.
'I tried so hard, so why did you still die?'
Her methods of preserving life were no match for the pain she inflicted.
Within ten minutes, they were all on the verge of death.
Helpless, Zeroy cast them into Hellfire.
Watching the dying wretches scream once more in the flames, Zeroy still felt unsatisfied.
"What a shame I don't have a Ten-Thousand Soul Banner."
Theoretically, being burned by Hellfire stretches out subjective perception: to outsiders it looks like they turn to ash instantly, but the victims themselves feel as if ages have passed.
Yet Zeroy thought even that was not enough. Far better to seal their souls in a Ten-Thousand Soul Banner, or cast them into hell itself, to suffer for hundreds or thousands of years.
She wasn't being extreme. What's extreme about this? It's always been this way, hasn't it? Don't accuse her unfairly.
Both Daoism and Buddhism—two of history's great religions and mainstream philosophies—have always held that evildoers should fall into hell after death and be tormented.
It's what the ancestors passed down.
Besides... these beasts in human skin were far too disgusting.
If she hadn't arrived in time, one girl would have had her legs broken, one her eyes gouged out, and one subjected to bestiality. And that wouldn't have been the end—far more torments awaited them.
Is this something humans can do?
When everyone in the room had been reduced to ash, leaving only Zeroy, Patchouli, and the three innocent girls, Zeroy let out a faint sigh.
In her heart, she felt even more firmly the need to obtain the Ten-Thousand Soul Banner, or hell itself.
At the same time, Zeroy slowly turned toward the three girls still bound by a coarse rope.
Her emerald eyes lost their earlier chill, softening with a gentle glow. Her voice, too, became calm and tender: "Are you... alright? You're not hurt, are you?"
"Eek—!"
Even so, the girls only reacted in terror. All three fragile bodies shook violently at once, the ropes digging deep into their skin as they struggled without realizing it.
They shook their heads desperately, pupils shrank to pinpoints, their eyes filled with fear even deeper than when they had faced the thugs. To them, Zeroy was no savior, but a demon crawling out of hell.
If not for the ropes holding them fast to their chairs, they would have already huddled together or fled.
The fear was understandable—Zeroy's methods had been too horrifying.
The entire room had become a sea of blood.
Walls, ceiling, every corner and crack—all stained scarlet, as if blood had been splashed about without end.
Blood still dripped down the walls, chunks of flesh hung from the chandelier, and scraps of suits floated like petals in the pools.
The once-proud men were now nothing but severed limbs and torn meat, scattered crudely around the room. The stench of iron was overwhelming, to the point of nauseating.
Blood had even splashed onto the girls' faces and bodies. The wet, clammy touch only worsened their trembling.
Yet, Zeroy showed no anger.
She wasn't offended by their fear. Instead, her emerald eyes reflected deep compassion.
She stepped forward, slender fingers brushing the ropes, snapping the knots apart with ease.
She crouched, ignoring their flinching as if shocked by lightning, only sighing softly as she gathered the three trembling little ones into her arms, cradling them like fragile porcelain.
"Don't be afraid..." Zeroy rested her chin on the youngest girl's head, the faint scent of flowers chasing away the stench of blood. "Big sister only kills the bad people."
"So it's alright now, it's alright..." Her voice was as soft as spring wind, carrying a power that soothed the heart. "The bad ones are gone. From now on, only pests will be culled, and you are innocent. You'll never be harmed."
Their bodies remained stiff with fear, but Zeroy's warm embrace was like an invisible barrier against the blood and despair outside.
Gradually, their trembling eased. Silent tears slid down, dampening Zeroy's shoulder.
Their crying grew louder, as though returned to a mother's arms, unable to hold back the flood of emotions.
They had been sold from the countryside to the imperial capital—arranged by their parents, and they had agreed themselves.
They thought they would only serve nobles as maids, doing chores and cleaning.
Anyhow, they were far too naive. Their parents too. They had no idea how vile the darkness of the capital and its elites truly was.
Soon, the little ones cried themselves out. The day's extremes had left them mentally and physically exhausted.
"Sleep. When you wake, you'll find everything has changed. The world will be beautiful again. The ugliness will never return..."
...
"..."
Zeroy stood atop a clocktower, gazing down at the city.
Her brow furrowed, unable to relax.
"Ugly... too ugly..."
Through her Evil Slayer and Hellfire senses, this city was practically a breeding ground of {evil}, black miasma seeping everywhere.
The density even surpassed the apocalyptic worlds of Black Bullet and Highschool of the Dead.
It was malice fermenting and pooling here, twisting into its purest form.
That said, Zeroy restrained her urge to go on a massacre.
She needed to understand what this situation was, where this place was, and why she had been brought here.
Patchouli, who had come with her, was waiting for the answer. Zeroy herself was also in the dark.
"You said you heard something like the call of believers?"
"Mm, I heard the wails of the suffering, like prayers from believers. I wanted to answer them, and when I opened my eyes, I was here."
"The ones who called you were those three girls?"
"Mm..."
Zeroy recalled the sensation, then shook her head.
"No. Not only did they not know me, but in my senses, I felt no connection between us. And beyond them, I didn't sense anyone else linked to me either."
"That's strange. You were clearly summoned here, though there was no summoner. And this... should be somewhere we've never been before—possibly an entirely new world."
Patchouli frowned in thought. "However, the truth is, you're not actually a god. Your name and faith couldn't have spread to another world so quickly."
...
If you want to support, please consider Patreon, and read advanced chapters! Your support keeps this series going!
[Patreon.com/RedZTL]