Days passed, and the child sitting on the high seat gradually grew into a handsome young man.
Below the altar, the believers tearfully recounted how they had been swindled out of their fortunes in business, how their families were always bickering and showed no understanding for him, and cursed the thieves who had stolen all his property… Douma sat composedly on the soft cushion of the altar, dressed in solemn Lord Master attire, his white-oak hair and fair skin seemingly glowing faintly.
He resembled an exquisitely crafted sculpture, radiating a divine brilliance from head to toe.
He looked down with a compassionate expression at the weeping man, his multicolored eyes as clear and vibrant as a rainbow after the rain, yet utterly empty in their depths.
"I understand the suffering you endure, and I know you have not yet made up your mind to go to Paradise…"
Tsk, another fool controlled by desire.
"Go to the town at the foot of the mountain; you will receive aid from the Faith…"
Then reveal your insatiable nature~
"The benevolent God will grant happiness to everyone equally."
Where is there a God? Even if there is, He surely isn't benevolent.
The man retreated, overwhelmed with gratitude, and the wooden door was carefully closed.
Douma instantly dropped his compassionate demeanor, staring expressionlessly at the sunbeams that filtered through the window and fell onto the floor.
"My emotional fluctuations are becoming fewer and fewer."
He showed a sad expression, though his heart was utterly unmoved.
"The last time I felt happy was nineteen days ago, I think, though it quickly disappeared."
This exquisite and magnificent shell seemed incapable of retaining any emotion, like a constantly leaking pot, threatening to turn his soul into a pale, hollow void.
Since realizing this, Douma had been trying to find ways to preserve his emotions.
He absolutely did not want to return to being that indifferent, emotionless puppet.
Thus, he cultivated many hobbies and even did some dangerous, exciting, and even absurd things, though he quickly lost interest in all of them.
He repeatedly recalled his emotionally rich past… but gradually, nothing from the past could stir even a ripple in his heart, and he increasingly failed to understand the various decisions he had made under the sway of emotions back then.
"So stupid, there were clearly better choices at the time."
"Emotions always drive people to do incredibly foolish things."
He felt his former self slowly dying within this shell, leaving behind only bland, uninteresting pale memories, as boring and foolish as the complaints of those believers.
Because he was preoccupied with his own affairs, he also had no time or energy to interfere with the management of the Eternal Paradise Faith.
He merely listened to the confessions of the believers day after day, hoping to extract some emotions from them—
Even if it was just disgust.
But perhaps because he had experienced all sorts of emotions and the feelings and desires of normal people, he saw through the minds of the believers even more clearly.
His rainbow-colored eyes seemed able to see through the varied shells of people to the inner selves hidden beneath.
The ever-changing hearts of people, even if he increasingly couldn't understand or empathize with them, he still found them somewhat fascinating.
So he amassed a great deal of wealth and began to help those pitiable believers.
For Douma, with his intelligent mind that remembered everything and his advanced foresight, making money was truly the simplest thing.
After being rescued from their miserable fates with the help of the Faith, more and more people revealed endless greed and ugly desires—
They took everything for granted, were never satisfied, and only constantly demanded more.
Douma, however, wasn't annoyed by this; instead, he found it amusing.
And there were some even more interesting people.
Those simpletons who didn't even know how to take advantage, who were content and tearfully grateful after only a slight improvement in their lives, and those who, after escaping difficult circumstances, transformed and revealed astonishing brilliance… they seemed to make one's mood a little better.
"Humans are truly foolish and pathetic creatures," Douma thought calmly, "and so am I."
Immediately, a pure and beautiful smile spread across his face: "But there are also some very lovely beings."
"But what should I do?" He then scratched his hair with a troubled expression.
"It seems even this bit of fun is about to completely disappear."
"Lord Master," a gentle female voice came through the wooden door.
"Ah, is something wrong, Kiko-nee-san?" Douma instantly switched to a charming smile.
He quite admired this maid named Kiko; she always seemed very content after being rescued, a gentle and lovely woman.
Though she was also quite foolish.
The door was pushed open, and a beautiful-faced woman walked in, holding something, her gaze towards Douma filled with sincere reverence and gratitude.
"A believer sent a gift," Kiko said with a bright smile, "I feel it suits Douma-sama very well."
She handed over the item—
A pair of golden iron fans.
Feeling the cool touch of the iron fans, Douma opened them with a'swish', lowering his eyes to gaze at the intricately carved lotus and lotus leaf patterns on them.
"They're very beautiful," he said softly. Indeed, they were quite pleasing to the eye.
"It's good that Douma-sama likes them," Kiko said happily, then retreated.
The room became silent again. Douma toyed with the heavy fans, then looked up at the setting sun outside the window.
He slowly rose from the soft cushion. The young man, nearly twenty years old, had a remarkably tall and slender physique for that era.
He stepped into the sunlight, quietly gazing at the Lotus Pond outside the window, his face rarely showing an expression of unclear meaning.
"Will I walk the path I was originally meant to?"
"It seems… there's no need to doubt it~"
He looked at the iron fans in his hands, his expression becoming emotionless once more.
Before long, his last remaining emotions would completely vanish, wouldn't they?
The past ten years felt like a beautiful dream. Dreams eventually end, and he would revert to being that hollow, empty monster.
"How… truly pitiful."
He covered his face with one hand, tears flowing from his eyes. But there was no sadness in his heart, not even despair.
He stopped his tears, slowly returned to his cushion, and placed his hands on his knees.
"Become a demon," he murmured to himself.
"Before I completely lose my emotions."
If demons are creatures driven by obsessions, and Blood Demon Art is the materialization of those obsessions, then perhaps he could awaken a completely different Blood Demon Art now?
Not the ice symbolizing the hollow heart that the original Douma, who lacked even obsession, possessed, but something else?
Perhaps it could bring even a tiny possibility of a turning point?
"Oh dear, I have a feeling it'll only get worse~" Douma complained in a lazy, almost petulant tone.
After all, trying to maintain emotions by becoming a demon, a creature that loses its humanity, just doesn't seem reliable no matter how you think about it.
"But it can't possibly get any worse, can it?"
Even if the result is becoming a pathetic and twisted monster completely lost to obsession, controlled by the Demon King, it doesn't matter.
This must be the commonality of all living beings—
Before completely succumbing to destruction, they always choose to struggle in their death throes.
"So, become a demon."
"…This time, it's for myself."
"Before obsession still exists in my heart…"
Douma smiled, pressing the iron fan in his hand against his lips.
"Hmm, it should still exist, right?"
He suddenly tilted his head, his expression as innocent and pure as a child's.