Fremd Torturchen - Volume 6 - Chapter 3

3

The Saint Awakens

It’s a weird thing, being powerful.

That was what Kaito Sena thought.

All someone had to do was possess incredible power, and others would instinctively show them deference, fear, and respect. Even if the end of the world hadn’t been nigh, the number of people following that person would probably be above zero. They would be like demon worshippers, true, but demon worshippers had existed for countless ages, after all.

At the moment, Kaito was in constant pain. It felt as though his entrails were being toyed with by a windlass, his cranial nerves were being directly lit ablaze, and someone was carving up his bones. As long as he didn’t throw in the towel, though, he could generate an endless supply of mana. It was a technique born from several combined influences: his experiences from his past life, his immortal body, his contract with the Kaiser, and the fact that he possessed the Torture Princess’s heart.

As a result, not a single person in the world was his equal.

What word would even be fitting to describe such a peerless individual?

Almighty? Omnipotent? Strongest? Unbeatable? Invincible? Hero? Messiah? …Mad King?

Regardless…

…None of that actually means anything.

That was what Kaito Sena thought.

Power was supposed to carry inherent responsibility with it. A person’s strength was fundamentally useless if they lacked a purpose—something to use that power for. It was little more than a parlor trick. Kaito understood that fact implicitly—if he couldn’t fulfill his promise, then all the power and accolades in the world wouldn’t mean a thing. As a matter of fact…

…It would piss me off if they did.

Kaito slowly opened his eyes.

The azure wall before him cracked, then a moment later shattered like glass.

…H-huh?

He blinked a few times. He’d just been deep in thought about something; he was sure of it. But he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it had been. He must have lost consciousness for a short bit.

Kaito heaved a deep sigh, then shook his head a little and covered his forehead with his hand.

“What, again? Fuck.”

Activating the teleportation circle itself was easy. However, this situation had started happening more and more frequently.

The root of the problem lay in the fact that his pain disappeared during transit. Then it would all come back at once, causing his body to die of shock and have to automatically revive.

I guess I should be glad the blood didn’t get stuck in my trachea, at least. Getting it out before I choke to death and die a second time sounds like a giant hassle… Depending on how bad it got, I might even have to rip out my throat… And I’d really rather not… If someone saw me before I healed, they would definitely cause a scene.

His thoughts barely coherent, Kaito spat out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth. The ground was dyed sticky and red. He didn’t hesitate for a moment as he strode over the puddle of his own blood he himself had made.

As he walked, he reminded himself how long it had been since the pillars had gone up.

It’s only been two days… Or maybe I should say it’s “already” been two days?

He had to get everything done within the next five days.

If he didn’t, everyone would die.

The people he loved, the people he hated, the people he didn’t care about one way or the other—everyone. But panicking wouldn’t accomplish anything. There was something important that Kaito was lacking in order to carry out his objective.

There’re just too many things that I don’t know… I guess my only option’s to keep doing what needs to get done.

As he walked across the lush, high-quality moss, Kaito cast his gaze upward.

Looming in front of him was the colossal World Tree.

Even with the end approaching, the rich foliage blotting out the sky was as splendid as ever. The gigantic, aged tree was still releasing consecrated energy. Because of that, its surroundings were free of underlings.

Free of living underlings, that was. Their corpses littered the ground here and there.

The beastfolk lands had suffered damages in the war, but those damages only went as far as the round river, which originated from the pure waters in the earth’s depths and surrounded the forest containing the World Tree.

Even now, the beastfolk were fighting alongside Kaito’s special appointee to prevent the underlings from reaching the bedchamber of the Three Kings of the Forest. From time to time, the underlings’ numbers would allow them to break through the defensive line, but they would be so wounded by that point that they wouldn’t be able to endure the World Tree’s sacred aura.

As a result, they would unceremoniously explode.

I’m gonna need to come back later and check up on the World Tree’s defenses, but it looks like they should be able to hold for now.

The underlings’ corpses were strange. Their ribs had sprouted outward like flowers. After casting a sidelong glance their way, Kaito headed for the entrance.

At the moment, the entrance was sealed by a tangled web of ivy. The various shades of green were wound together so tightly that not so much as a caterpillar could get in. It looked almost like a wall that had stood idle for centuries.

However, when Kaito arrived, the door began writhing without even waiting for the doorkeepers’ orders. The ivy peeled away, forming a hole through which he could enter. Much to the doorkeepers’ surprise, the World Tree had extended Kaito a warm welcome.

It was undoubtedly the wills of the Three Kings of the Forest at work.

“G-good work out there. Enter at your leisure.”

“Thanks, you too. It looks like the defensive line is holding up pretty well, so none of the enemy forces should be able to reach you unscathed just yet. You guys can take it easy for a bit longer.”

“Yes, sir.”

The doorkeepers bowed their heads. However, their tails had curled up unbidden. They’d failed to conceal their fear. Pretending not to notice, Kaito walked inside alone.

The Three Kings of the Forest still hadn’t left the room they shared, which was beside the underground lake on the World Tree’s lowest level.

Even after the Mad King’s advent, the three of them had stuck firmly to their policy of neither reigning nor governing. Given the World Tree’s reactions, though, it was clear they’d been getting information from the imperial family and had made some sort of judgment.

Well, they don’t seem hostile toward me, at least. That’s something to be thankful for.

As he was thinking, Kaito kept walking. The inside of the World Tree resembled that of an ant colony. Holes ran across the walls every which way, leading to rooms of various sizes and complex sets of passages. It made for a location that was easy to defend and hard to attack.

Because of that, various important members from other races were permitted to take shelter here as privileged guests. Kaito had heard the young human king was afraid of war and had squirreled himself away in one of the guest rooms. There was no shortage of people lamenting his fragile spirit, but Kaito didn’t care much one way or the other. As long as the king didn’t hand down any stupid orders, that was plenty as far as Kaito was concerned.

By promising them preferential treatment in protecting their land and riches, I was able to sway all the aristocrats the king left in charge to my side, except the Church diehards. La Christoph assembled the saints. And there isn’t anyone in the paladins or their subordinate group, the Royal Knights, who’ll get in my way, either. I don’t have anything in the way of formal supporters, but bit by bit, things are moving along. It would be a pain if the king went and got in the way now.

The king had value simply by virtue of being alive. Kaito asked nothing more of him.

The person whom Kaito had come to visit was somebody else entirely.

As a matter of fact, the issue of their custody had been the subject of no small amount of debate among the dignitaries.

Kaito continued deeper and deeper down through the holes. The farther down he got, the fewer people he passed by, so much so that it started becoming hard to believe everyone was in a state of high alert. He began wondering if all those who worked here had just vanished.

After following the winding, spiral-shaped corridor, Kaito finally reached the very bottom.

The ground lost its slant and became level. The path veered off to the left, but it was blocked off by entangled roots. At first glance, it looked like a dead end. Yet in spite of that, there were human, beastfolk, and demi-human soldiers stationed before the wall of roots. Kaito stopped in front of them.

The eagle beastman with vestigial wings on his arms bowed. The demi-human and human soldiers gave no response.

Kaito took a deep breath, then spoke.

“I heard she woke up. I got permission from representatives from every race, the Church aside, to interrogate her. Let me through.”

“Understood. Please go on in.”

As the beastman replied, the World Tree moved. The roots creaked as they shifted to the side.

All the obstacles had been removed, and a straight path extended forward. There was nobody there, and no ornamentation of any kind. There was only the pale-white corridor of unseasoned wood continuing onward.

Kaito gazed in earnest at the space. It threatened to throw his sense of time out of whack. Then he gently raised a hand.

“Thanks. I’m heading in.”

“You know who it is you’re dealing with. Don’t let your guard down.”

“And make sure not to hurt her.”

That last bit had been appended by the human soldier. The demi-human was silent, as expected. Their intense stares were focused on Kaito’s back as he went inside. The roots immediately writhed and reformed their wall. In other words, there was no turning back. Kaito nodded once, then started walking again. He continued on in silence.

Eventually, a boy wearing a scarlet outfit came into view at the end of the corridor. Kaito frowned involuntarily. The scene seemed sinister; it reminded him of a single drop of blood floating atop human skin.

A single feather, sprouting from her pale arm.

The drop of blood had quivered atop her white skin, then collapsed.

Kaito shook his head to clear away the image of what he’d seen back at the World’s End. Then he spoke in as cheery a voice as he could muster.

“Hey there, keep up the good work.”

The boy gave him a deep bow. He was a member of the Church, but he normally served as La Christoph’s attendant. He had no connection to the reconstruction sect. They hadn’t found out about the awakening yet.

Kaito gazed intently at the boy. The boy nodded, as though in understanding. He then took a step to the side.

A door bearing the coat of arms of the Three Kings of the Forest came into view from behind his scarlet-clad back.

Kaito pressed his finger against its engraved surface. When he pushed, the door swung open so easily, it was almost anticlimactic. A heavy silence rose up to greet him. Just like the corridor, the room within was completely white. It was like a hospital, or perhaps a prison. It was almost completely empty; the only piece of furniture within was a modest bed.

Atop the bed’s clean sheets sat a thin woman.

Her long, black hair ran down her slender back like a veritable river. She should have been able to hear the door opening, but she just sat motionlessly, her gaze fixed on the wall. However, there was nothing there.

The room was located at the base of the World Tree. It wasn’t like it had any windows.

Yet still, she stared at that single point, as though to say there was something she could see.

“Well, Miss Saint, how are you feeling?”

Even Kaito himself could make out the sarcasm in his voice.

The woman twitched, her shoulders moving for the first time. She slowly turned around.

She was the Laughing Woman, the one whom Valisisa’s private army had retrieved from the World’s End.

And she was the Suffering Saint, the one who’d destroyed the old world and brought about the rebuilding.

The Saint’s eyes were perfectly clear, and they reflected Kaito like mirrors.

“I’m not the Saint anymore, you know.”

Those were the first words that came from the Saint’s mouth.

She calmly shook her head. Her sleek, black hair shook, casting a ring of light.

From her appearance, she seemed young. However, her behavior revealed an elderly spirit, and the impression she gave off was that of a mother who’d borne countless children.

Kaito slowly narrowed his eyes.

It was true; at the moment, she was neither crying tears of blood nor strung upside down. She was simply sitting, clad in the white garb of a patient or a prisoner. She didn’t look the part of the Saint in the least.

But Kaito repeated himself.

“No, you are the Saint. You’re the one who destroyed the last world, who carried out the rebuilding, and who created this current world. You’re the Church’s object of worship, the Suffering Saint, the mother who gave birth to everything. Are you not?”

“The Church’s object of worship… True…I am. I…was. I know…that much. It’s vague and faint and indistinct…but I know that much. Just…as I expected. I became an object of worship. They respected me…revered me…believed in me. Bah, what a load of shit!”

Suddenly, her voice went shrill. While there was no zeal in her tone, her words had a frightening amount of loathing packed into them. Her lamentation struck Kaito like a knife.

He waited silently for her to continue. The Saint clacked her eerily straight teeth.

“They don’t know the first thing about me.”

She practically spat out the words, her voice steeped in malice. Then she turned back around and fixed her gaze on a single point on the wall. It was almost as if she could see something. When she continued, her voice was dispassionate.

“Yet even so, I was alone for so, so long.”

Her words cut off.

She said no more.

Then once again, she was still. Her silence was so deafening that it made it hard to believe she had ever been talking.

Kaito shook his head and snapped his fingers. Azure flower petals and black darkness swirled as he created a small chair for himself. This time, it was simple and wooden, well befitting the room. As he sat down upon its narrow seat, he gazed at the Saint’s skinny back and conspicuous shoulder blades. From behind, she seemed cold, as though she were rejecting the very world itself. He spoke:

“Will you tell me about it?”

“About what? At this point, what is there to talk about? The end is nigh. Nigh, don’t you know? The end-time…hee-hee…hoh-hoh-hoh!”

The Saint’s frail shoulders shook as she lapsed into an unsettling fit of laughter.

Kaito waited patiently for her to finish, then let out a heavy sigh. When he spoke, his voice had a stubborn kindness to it.

“You’ve been fighting your own battle all this time, haven’t you? And if that’s the case, then I’m sure there was something you held inside yourself the whole while. Something that no one ever tried to look for. But maybe now it’s time to tell the truth.”

“…The truth?”

“For the longest time, people just believed that you carried out the rebuilding. That, as the Suffering Saint, you bore the burden of all their sins. In reality, though, you’re a sinner without peer, the woman who single-handedly destroyed the previous world. What did you do? What was it you were trying to atone for?”

At that point, Kaito trailed off for a moment. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists tight.

Scenes from the World’s End flashed in the darkness behind his eyelids. His face contorted wildly. However, the Saint’s back was to him, so she was oblivious to his change. In order to set her mind at ease, or perhaps to get her to speak carelessly, Kaito maintained calmness in his voice alone.

“Why did you throw it all away?”

“It was too much.”

Her response was immediate. Kaito was taken aback. The Saint turned to face him again. Her unnaturally sleek hair draped across the bridge of her shapely nose. Her eyes were serene, but there was no life in them. They looked just like the sky at the World’s End originally had—hollow. Her lips, on the other hand, were red and vibrant, and as the mother of all living creatures gave her statement, they contorted with a strange tenderness.

“Yet despite that, you people weren’t worth enough for me to keep bearing it.”

Not in the slightest, she seemed to imply.

For a moment, Kaito felt a flash of gratitude at the fact that he was the only one who’d heard those words.

If anyone from the Church had heard them, that alone might have been enough for them to kill themselves. After all, they’d been cruelly discarded by the very entity whom countless people had spent generations praying to and worshipping.

A heavy silence descended upon the two of them. Kaito was the first to break it.

A gentle smile spread across his face, and with a brief nod, he threw his arms out wide.

“Yeah, I feel you. That makes sense.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

The Saint looked over her shoulder, flustered. She clearly hadn’t expected him to understand where she was coming from. It was the first time any real humanity had come across in her behavior.

As he faced the confused woman, Kaito went on earnestly.

“It makes sense that you’d feel like that. After all, prayer is supposed to be a one-way street. Whoever’s being worshipped doesn’t have any obligation to receive it. And the truth about the Saint was kept under wraps for ages. Anyone who knew even a piece of the truth was suppressed, and everyone else just blindly trusted what was laid out in front of them without even trying to notice how contradictory it was. They just worshipped you without a care in the world. If we do this, we’ll be rewarded. If we do this, we’ll be saved. From your perspective, them believing that nonsense was probably a sin in and of itself. And I’m not here to tell you otherwise.”

“I…”

“But y’know, who gives a shit about all that?”

A kind smile still plastered across his face, Kaito reached his arm out. The Saint’s throat was as thin as a swan’s, and Kaito squeezed it with one hand. His gentle expression didn’t change in the slightest.

The Saint tilted her head to the side a little. However, that was her only reaction. She couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. It was only when Kaito lifted her slim body into the air that she started kicking her legs.

Still holding her with one arm, Kaito rose from his chair. His voice was quiet and calm.

“After all, you don’t know the first thing about me, do you?”

The Saint’s cheeks quivered. She was about to refute his statement and murmur that she did know him, but she stopped midway. A look of bafflement floated across her empty eyes. As the Saint, she was acquainted with everything she’d birthed, even if that knowledge was only slight. Yet the boy standing before her seemed to be one of the few exceptions.

Just as nobody had known who she truly was—

—she knew nothing about him.

“This body of mine is artificial, and the soul inside isn’t one of your descendants. What that means is I don’t have to sit here and listen to you spill your guts like some whiny fucking kid. I mean, if you were anyone else, I probably would anyway, but still.”

Kaito was a reasonably compassionate person. As far as the Saint was concerned, though, he had no sympathy to spare. He closed his eyes and forced himself to recall the things he’d seen back at the World’s End.

A woman bound by briars. Black feathers sprouting from her body and blooming into azure roses. A pained smile spreading across her beautiful, bloodstained face.

Kaito’s cheek twitched, as though he was fighting back tears. When he opened his eyes, though, they were dry. His voice went a tone deeper.

“Unfortunately, I’m so pissed off at you that I could kill you three hundred times and not be satisfied. So why don’t we just have a nice little chat about how things went down earlier? Depending on how our conversation goes, we might be able to part ways without me having to test how much you can really endure.”

The Saint’s expression froze. Ever since the world’s creation, she had been in constant agony. By all rights, she should have been beyond fear. Yet her composure, which had been born from having tasted everything the world had to offer, crumbled.

Standing before her was something unknown.

Her thoughts thrown into disarray, a hoarse voice escaped the Saint’s mouth.

“I… No, you…”

“The two of us should get along and part ways as friends. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Suddenly, Kaito released his grip, and the Saint collapsed. After plopping back onto the bed, she began violently coughing. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked up at Kaito. At the moment, she was sheltering neither God nor Diablo in her body. All she had available to her was her natural aptitude for magic.

What could those eyes of hers perceive within Kaito? The Saint clutched at her own trembling shoulders.

“You’re…you’re not…one of my creations. No…you’re not…even… Who are you?”

“I wonder. Who do you think I am?”

Kaito turned the Saint’s question back on her. Memories of a nostalgic voice echoed within the depths of his ears.

It felt like it had been over a century ago when someone had called out to Kaito in that voice.

“Butler,” she’d called him. “Fool.” “Kaito.” Her voice had been resonant, free from any sort of modesty or restraint.

Of course, even with her gone, there were still people left who would call out to him. At the moment, though, those people had been separated and spread out across the land. All of them were following Kaito’s orders and working to fight against Diablo.

And so, alone, the boy acting as the Mad King shrugged.

Several gruesome strands of blood dribbled from his lips.

When the individual responsible for the fate of the world smiled this time, it was a completely different smile than the one he’d worn before.

“Truth is, I’m not sure even I know anymore.”

His tone was detached, and his words were as light as the wind. Yet at the same time, they carried with them a deep sadness.

Furthermore, his clumsy smile was too broken to truly be called human.

The Saint gazed vacantly at his comical, pitiable state. A length of time passed, and it was certainly not a short one. Suddenly, though, the Saint’s expression changed, and once again, she adopted the kindly demeanor of a mother.

It was unclear whether it was his deranged cheerfulness or his grief, which was as deep as the ocean, that had gotten through to her. All that was clear was that the stubbornness she’d borne until then had vanished without a trace.

“This is a tale from long, long ago.”

And with that, the solitary woman began narrating.

It was a story from long, long ago. A tale too horrible to be called Genesis, too tragic.

But it was also far too twisted to pass off as a fairy tale.