Chapter 46: Interlude – Nightmare (part 2)

The corners of the saint’s mouth, whose heart had been pierced by the holy sword, slowly rose upon hearing her cursed words. Facing Priestess Emily, who ran toward him with a grimace twisted like a devilish beast, he asked her the one question that had long weighed on his heart.

“Emily, do you believe in destiny?”

The immortal priestess, stripped of her power and reduced to a mere woman, embraced the saint and threw herself from the high walls of Lyriam.

Soon, everything returned to nothingness, as it always did.

***

“Let’s go, Krail!”

“I understand, Raynell.”

***

“Liliana! Hurry and kill Erman!”

“Tapnel, but then you—!”

***

“Erman, you who dared to defy Telmere’s decree and break the taboo—I, Ziffnel, angel of kindness and love, have come with my representative to punish you!”

“Heretic Inquisitor Thalia Ziffnel, I shall punish you for being tainted by evil and restore order to the world.”

***

And as always, time passed. 

Countless beings appeared before the saint, trying to kill him and save the world from destruction.

As if it were all predetermined, the world would always crumble into dust, swallowed by emptiness.

Eons passed again…

And finally, a brown-haired woman stepped forward to face the saint for the first time.

“…It’s been a while since I last saw you, Father.”

“Hmm. There’s no reason for a doll made from a lump of a corpse to call me ‘Father.’”

Cecil, his beloved daughter who he wouldn’t hurt even if the world ended.

Even though he could hear the voice of his living, breathing adoptive daughter close by, Erman simply sat atop the castle wall in the distance, gazing at the sky of Lyriam as it dissolved into dust.

“No matter how much you try to turn back time, in the end, everything returns to the beginning.”

“…”

“In truth, father, you sensed it vaguely too. Everything.”

“It’s set as a destiny. Yes, I know.”

When Cecil said that the outcome of all his plans had already been decided, Erman—who had gently revealed the truth of God—slowly rose to his feet and nodded.

The saint’s once pure white robes had been stained with dust after the fierce battle.

Erman, having straightened her disheveled garments, glared at the daughter who had become one with the devil and asked the only question still buried in his heart.

“Nirhil, do you believe destiny?”

“…I don’t.”

‘I don’t believe in predestined harmony.’

‘Love is not something you’re simply given.’

‘Eternal love is something that must be desperately pursued.’

‘Even if the world brings me to my knees, even if fate sings of despair—’

“Someday, I will find happiness with my love, Julius.”

Her face shone with unwavering faith, just like the golden-haired man who had once vowed eternal love.

The fallen saint, staring at the brown-haired woman who looked exactly like his dead daughter, slowly stepped back and smiled bitterly.

“…Yes. You must believe in that much if you wish to call yourself my daughter, Cecil.”

─── Puck.

The sound of something breaking rang through the silence.

The saint’s final words echoed in Cecil’s ears as she watched him throw himself from the castle wall.

And as the devil forcibly wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks, the “world” began to dissolve into the void.

She slowly knelt down as she looked toward him.

“Oh Lord, please save these little lambs and grant my poor husband a joyful future.”

“Please bestow upon me, now a fallen devil, an unshakable faith.”

“I beseech you!”

***

In the beginning, there was void.  

A world where no one opened their mouths—where only silence reigned.  

And in that world of endless quiet, it suddenly opened its eyes.  

A black, squishy mass, clumsily imitating the shape of a woman.  

A legendary demon, later feared as the Emperor’s Nightmare until the dawn of the Holy Age.  

Back then, it had no name.  

It simply opened its eyes, stood, tilted its head, and gazed leisurely around.  

There was nothing.  

Only pitch-black darkness.  

When it awoke in the void, it felt a cold weight in its hand. 

Slowly, it lifted a small, black limb.  

In that colorless nothingness, a silver chain glimmered—bright, almost boastful.  

The chain, clutched tightly since waking, bore a strange shape, as if something had been torn away.  

What is this?  

A chain…  

But what is a “chain”?  

A nameless being, innocent as a child who knew nothing, stared blankly. 

After a moment, it nodded absently and tucked the silver chain into the folds of its skirt.  

It didn’t remember what a “skirt” was, but something about the fabric wrapping its waist felt right.  

Now ready, the Nameless One stepped forward, walking silently through the endless dark where nothing existed, nothing could be seen.  

‘I must return to him quickly.’

‘My lovely husband, Julius.’  

‘I am his wife.’  

‘I have to go back.’  

The road stretched long and rough, so much that it wanted to collapse and weep.  

‘Julius, my love… please find me soon.’  

‘Even now, I imagine you holding me, whispering your love.’ 

‘But I am alone here.’  

‘So cold… Please…’  

‘Call my name. Take my hand.’  

“…” 

‘But what is my name?’

In the ever-expanding void, the poor woman had forgotten.  

***

“Nirhil, is it true? Did you really see the future?”  

A demon—a writhing mass of black mud, barely mimicking the shape of a girl—spoke.  

Arnhill, nicknamed Turbid Desire, was the third to awaken in the void. She fidgeted noisily, imitating a woman gazing at the horizon.  

The devil, perched on the castle wall in deep thought, broke Arnhill’s jaw with a casual flick. Then, softly, she whispered: “…Yes. I saw it.”  

“That’s it? You break my jaw, and all you say is, ‘Yes, I saw it’?”  

Arnhill’s form quivered like crushed clay as she mocked Nirhil’s tone.  

Unamused, Nirhil turned away, staring again at the horizon.  

Out there… lies the Kingdom of Lyriam. 

‘My home. It will be built there…’

‘No—it will be, soon.’

‘Just a little longer.’  

‘Yes, just ahead…’  

‘Only a thousand more years.’  

***

A woman—once royalty, now reduced to nothing—clutched the devil’s skirt, her teeth bared in desperation, her voice thick with blood and fury.  

“Please, Nirhil. I beg you. Destroy the wicked king who betrayed my father and devoured the world.”  

Nirhil tilted her head, her vaguely human face twisting in curiosity.  

“…I am a devil. Why should I do this for you?”  

The ruined princess grinned, her smile hideous, mad.  

“In exchange… I offer my very existence.”