Different Faith (4)
The Duke's laboratory.
Rete kept an almost awkward silence as she inspected the surroundings carefully.
There were no traces to be found.
"Merkede, long time no see. How have you been?"
Suppressing a tension as if his heart might burst, Merkede sank to his knees.
"Hello, boss." It was an oddly striking start—he addressed her as "boss" instead of the Duke.
"The Duke."
Rete's gaze chilled again.
"What is the reason?"
"What do you mean? If you cut it off like that, even I can't tell." He tried to dodge, but panic wasn't their style.
Rete said, "There's an error in the purification system. Some human severed the chains of Gehenna. I wanted the Duke to examine it, so I sent the chief secretary, but it leaked elsewhere, so I came myself."
Margit smoothed his beard.
So that's how it turned out. If Monoras had arrived first, I would've naturally sided with the pyromancer.
It wasn't about who arrived first.
The concept of coincidence is merely human logic. This situation is simply the result of a cause that began five hundred million—no, a billion—years ago.
Originally, the Duke had two choices.
To honor Rete's will and preserve Hell, or to honor Satan's will and reverse the tide.
Shirone had arrived first.
For Rete, the chain of Gehenna breaking was obviously an error. But for Satan, it was an opportunity.
If the True Voice's karma could be purified, the psychic barrier could open again.
"Lady Rete."
Margit chose war.
"The karma chain being cut means a human will denied Hell. That's not a matter of resolution but of enforcement. The age is heading toward its end. Can we really stand by and watch Satan enforce it?"
If one assumed the unproven premise as fact, the Duke's words made sense.
"Since when did Hell accept Yahweh? No—why are they so…?"
Were they obsessed with Yahweh?
"There have been those who couldn't quite bring themselves to hate universal love—even short of Lucifer or Behemoth. The Duke included. I can't understand it at all."
"Because they aren't demons."
Rete was an administrator.
"When I was first born in Hell, I belonged to the sentient caste—the demons with the greatest abilities. We fought without envy, conquered, and researched freely."
Margit recalled those days.
"It seemed magnificent. A world where those who proved their strength took everything. For someone like me, universal love was irrational, even violent."
Rete listened without comment.
"Then why hate it? Because we are the bastard children of universal love. It's systemic. A fate that arises from processing priorities: human emotions must exist before demons are born." As the conversation moved into administrative territory, Rete's eyes went mechanically indifferent.
"That much I can accept. The problem is that Yahweh denies it. He's a being who reverses processes. A terrorist of the system. To put it plainly, the brazen way he claims he didn't make the mess and insists he's done nothing wrong is infuriating."
Margit allowed a bitter smile.
"Demons can't analyze like the sentient caste, but from birth we feel it. Still, sometimes they repent. Why is that?"
Rete didn't answer.
"Because they're shameless. That audacity to speak without a hint of remorse is nauseating, hateful—makes you want to tear them apart...
And it's so unabashedly brazen.
"Maybe it really is that way, don't you think?" "Could it be that Yahweh is not entirely without fault? That we're mistaken? If he didn't abandon us, perhaps demons too will one day…"
Margit pointed to the ceiling.
"By reversing the system processes, couldn't we reach the true world?"
She called that feeling of loathing "salvation."
Oris was taken aback.
That kid defeated the intruder? He was a terrified deserter fleeing the battlefield.
Ishak introduced him.
"This is Yupi. He is of Royal blood who inherits Satan's spirit."
The Seven Generals' expressions changed in an instant.
Royal blood was the lineage that could rise to corps commander of Hell's army—or even attain a duke's title.
Itaka looked at Oris.
"You know him?"
"Huh? Uh, so—?????"
Shirone, quick to catch on, answered for him.
"He helped me a moment ago. When I was a coward running away, he taught me the true path of a demon."
"No, it wasn't quite like that." While Oris scratched the bridge of her nose with catlike claws, Moohnom narrowed one eye.
"So what do you want from us? You killed an intruder and now expect a reward?"
Ishak bowed his head.
"I wish to recommend Lord Yupi as captain of the Special Mobile Unit. Please let him lead us."
"Nonsense!"
Moohnom smashed the table.
"Crusade was the greatest warrior. Do you think that frail thing could replace him?"
"Moohnom." Ishak's eyes widened.
"You may belittle me as you wish, but choose your words carefully when it comes to Lord Yupi."
As a demon, it was natural to speak like that, yet Moohnom remained offended.
"Hmph! That's only if he becomes captain. Do you claim this Yupi is as strong as one of the Seven Generals?" Ishak fell silent.
A Royal lineage might ultimately reach the highest positions, but compared to the Seven Generals, Yupi's experience was scant.
"I agree."
Itaka spoke, fingers interlaced.
"Acknowledge the results Yupi achieved, but the foe he slew was an illusion. There is only one true body."
Huh?
Shirone turned in mild surprise.
Execution Commander Itaka.
Itaka's earlier declaration that it was an illusion proved he was the only one among the Seven Generals with Royal blood.
He defined it not as a clone but as an illusion—his search precision matched my senses.
Granted, that was limited to sensation.
"Here's how it'll go. The city is full of illusions. Among them, only one is real. The first to kill that one will be recommended for the martial honor."
Itaka looked at Shirone.
"And if Yupi captures the real body, I'll recommend him for the captaincy in addition to the honor."
"Heh, that sounds fine."
Moohnom accepted readily.
"Lucky you, kid. If you'd faced us directly you wouldn't have stood a chance—luck matters here."
Itaka's voice remained cold.
"Competition's fine, but keep it reasonable. I'll punish anyone who hinders mission performance. If necessary, be ready to cooperate in teams of four."
"Six, I think."
The Seven Generals fell silent at once.
"I think there are two more in that darkness. Very quiet presences."
No sooner had Shirone finished speaking than a voice came from behind Itaka.
"That one's got a decent nose."
The night guard captains Ilgak and Baeksail still hadn't shown themselves.
"But we won't be in the wager. Don't worry too much. If someone looks like they're going to die, we'll help."
The presence faded.
"All out for a change? Without Crusade, the martial honor will likely be mine."
Moohnom prepared to move out, but the first to leave the barracks was Shirone.
"Let's go, Ishak."
The Seven Generals looked stunned, and Ishak, following Shirone, wore the same dazed expression.
Different from before.
Compared to when he carried the stigma of deserter, his will felt stronger than anyone's.
Well, he's of Royal blood—competition must stir the blood.
Though that interpretation was off, Shirone was taking this seriously.
I have to find Son Yujeong. The power the Seven Generals sensed in him was by no means weak, but it would still be an irresistible force.
If it's Son Yujeong, it would take less than three days to lay waste to Rabiet.
Margit's plan would be disrupted as well.
"Skip the fakes and find the real one. They probably won't follow—gather your forces."
Before anyone could answer, Shirone's body flashed and shot into the sky.
"Royal—"
Ishak trembled with emotion.
As the Seven Generals were fully deployed, Son Yujeong's phantoms rapidly began to thin out.
"Kuhahaha! What is this? Is that all? Pathetic!"
Moohnom's body, evolving biologically, was becoming increasingly grotesque.
"Hgh!"
Spines erupted from his body and pierced the phantoms within a thirty-meter radius.
"Kya! Kihk!"
The phantoms shrieked as they pawed at the barbs, then moments later burst into light.
"Tch! All duds?"
Moohnom's face twisted.
Even as fakes, they're too weak. Did Crusade really fall to something like this?
There wasn't special camaraderie among demons, but they had respected one another as comrades-in-arms.
"I can't forgive this."
His lipless teeth ground together, and a tremendous roar tore from the other side of the building.
Sensing an abnormal shock, he turned to see the seventh floor collapsing.
There!
"Haaaaagh!"
Oris drove her claws into the ground and let out a threatening cry as blood ran down her face.
In her eyes, a golden, blazing Son Yujeong walked forward slowly.
Truly strong.
So strong it defied measurement—every combat stat was maxed.
Richera burst into laughter.
"Puhahaha! Serves you right, you miserable demons. Lord Son Yujeong! Cut off their limbs quickly." Despite the human's taunts, Oris remained silent.
Bringing that human along is a display of intent. This isn't the same level as the fakes. If we leave it, the city will be destroyed.
Resolved to die with the enemy, Oris crouched back on her haunches and bristled every hair.
"Huh?"
As Son Yujeong tilted his head, a black shadow surged at terrifying speed.
"Kyaaaaaaon!"
The time it took for the body to reach was less than half a blink, but—
"Slow."
Son Yujeong had already spun once and was swinging his blade at Oris's back.
Humiliating.
She had lost the will to fight and, in a moment of resignation, let her body go slack.
"Huh?"
In the cat's pupils, a red afterimage of a demon flashed.
Before she could react, Shirone shoved Oris aside and plunged at Son Yujeong.
If this guy is the real body...
A normal strike wouldn't even bite.
He struck the avatar directly.
Miracle Stream compressed into a Photon Cannon and slammed square into Son Yujeong's abdomen.
"Ugh!"
Hit by an unavoidable impact, he screamed and was hurled to the edge of vision.
Oris, who had collapsed against the wall watching the scene, slowly turned her head.
"…Yupi?"
The young demon extended a hand.
"Are you okay?"