Richard's POV.
I currently stood in my room upstairs. The place was wrecked now.
And the corpse of yet another of the orphanage children was here. Mauled to pieces. Missing an arm, both legs, and half his face.
Even his hair was burnt. Paul. From Richard's memories, I could tell he was a good guy. Well as good as a child could be.
Why though.
I don't feel anything for these children. At least I shouldn't. I'm not gonna stand here and act like I'm a moral police.
I'm well aware that I've very likely killed children in the past. I mean I burnt down the empire of the Elves and destroyed their world tree.
And when I conquered the Demon continent, I destroyed the kingdom of giants and wiped out the giant race.
So I have killed children but why does this one just...
Is it because I knew them? Or is it...
And in all of this, I find myself wondering, during the holy war, did the dukes carry out acts like this?
That was my thought as I picked the Paul's corpse and carried it downstairs.
I took it outside and dropped it on top of the stacks of corpses in front of the orphanage.
'And I can't even tell myself they didn't. I know the nature of demons better than most, they definitely did. Child molesters. Fuck.'
[Host. I would advise against beating yourself up over this. The demon dukes did that, not you.]
'Yeah. But I gave room for it. If I hadn't started the Holy war then–'
[Let's not act like the humans didn't have it coming. You remember what they did to Jenna don't you?]
'Yeah. I know. And maybe they did deserve it, but... maybe I could've regulated what the dukes did do during the war or...'
Haaa. I sighed. This isn't like me. I'm not usually one to start feeling remorseful over my actions and yet...
Is it because for the longest time I was always the initiator. I was always the one to give pain. And now that I'm receiving it...
Haaa. Forget it.
"Richard." I heard a soft voice calling out for me.
I turned to see Beatrice, her eyes slightly swollen and red from crying.
"It's ready." She said, turning back. Her orange hair swaying as she walked away.
I moved to the front of the orphanage. I then turned to the remaining living children. There were only six.
The rest had been killed. And even the six had almost some kind of dead look in their eyes. Like they'd lost their will to live.
"May their souls rest in peace," I muttered as a flame lit above my finger and I placed it on the pile of corpses.
The whole thing immediately lit up burning the corpses down.
"Mmm...mmm." The serpent we had captured stirred awake.
It moved sluggishly, it's forked tongue flicking the air with twitchy jerks. It's glowing green eyes snapped open, darting around the room in a panic before locking onto me.
I could feel my rage bubble up again. I wanted to kill him here and now. And there was a time I would.
No thought, no hesitation. But I restrained myself. Right now, I, no, we needed answers.
We needed to know where Evelyn was. If these animals could do this to children, there was no telling what they would do to a full grown adult like Evelyn who was their victim once already.
And I'm sure they at the very least came across Evelyn once since the mimic had her voice.
But to get information out of him. It. I knew what I had to do. And...
Looking at the surviving children, three of whom had collars on their necks, the other three free already, I knew I couldn't do it here.
Not in front of them.
And so I made up my mind as I turned to face the serpent.
"Beatrice, Alice," I said without looking away from it. "Go upstairs with the children. And lock the door."
Beatrice paused. "Why?"
"I'm not asking. Go."
The two of them left quietly. I could feel their hesitation, but they obeyed. Good.
I grabbed the serpent by the base of it's skull and dragged it back into the orphanage, down into the charred remains of the basement. It's inhuman limbs scraped against the floor, flailing weakly.
"Now. Talk."
I said coldly and without waiting for it to do so, I infused mana into my hand and slammed it into it's gut.
Bones cracked and something sizzled. It howled. No, shrieked. A wet, high-pitched noise that grated on my ears.
"Where's Evelyn?"
It didn't answer. Just screeched more.
I pulled back and punched again, shattering a ribcage that was already twisted and malformed.
The wound healed near instantly. Hmmm. Interesting.
"Now." I repeated, a bit slower this time. "Tell me... or I keep going."
It didn't respond. Just continued twitching and writhing while foaming at the mouth now.
As I thought huh. After seeing that unnatural healing for a human that it didn't have against Alice and Beatrice I suspected but now...
Looking into his or rather it's eyes, I saw only madness and instinct.
Now I know what it is... demonification.
It was partial demonification at that which means...
Whoever he was before... was gone.
Whoever they were... were gone as well.
Their minds were hollowed out by now. Meaning there was never going to be a conversation here.
They had no reasoning and I had no memory extraction magic on me. Yet.
"...Tch." I backed away, wiping the blood from my knuckles with the edge of my cloak.
Suddenly, it jerked at me. I turned, my hand already raised. It lunged at me with blind fury, perhaps sensing inevitable death, it no longer had any fear.
I responded in kind.
Boom.
My punch caved it's skull in, snapping it's neck.
The impact sent a shockwave through the room, and the walls trembled.
It collapsed.
Dead.
Just like that.
A few minutes later, I stood in front of the hallway mirror, flexing my fingers as I cleaned the blood off.
My reflection stared back at me, smeared with ash and dried crimson.
Haaa.
To think I couldn't even get anything from it. It's frustrating now that I think about it. Why didn't I realise sooner that they demonified.
I dragged that guy up the hill for nothing. No info. Nothing.
Haaa.
Looking at the quiet, nearly destroyed orphanage, I pondered.
What if we had come earlier. What if we had chosen to come here first instead of train.
Maybe–
A flicker of mana. Fast, sharp, strong. And it was heading here.
My body tensed before I even fully sensed it. This mana signature–
I'm sure of it. It's him.
The one I had felt at the cathedral earlier. The man who had started this chaos.
I felt my blood rush. A vein throb in my temple.
He was coming here huh? Now? Why now?
Did he come to do a clean up? Or did he sense my mana and came here to fight? What arrogance. And here I was originally planning to just let him live.
Mana surged through my limbs. Legs, arms. I channeled it from my core like blood through muscle and burst through the nearest wall with an explosive crack, dust and debris trailing behind me like shrapnel.
Boom!
The wind shrieked around me as I shot into the sky.
There–on the opposite horizon, a black shape racing toward me.
Faster.
BOOM!
We clashed mid-air.
Fist against fist.
A thunderclap rippled out as the mana between us exploded like a wave–trees bent, the ground below fractured, and a few distant windows shattered from the pressure alone.
I skidded back mid-air, flipping once before landing on the cracked earth, my shoes smoking from the force of the impact.
So did he.
He rose from the crater he made, brushing dirt off the remaining part of his torn cloak.
His face was visible now. A pale, smooth face with eyes like bottomless pits. Not back. Nor red. Just void. Like looking at an abyss that looked back.
I could see a couple bruises on his body that looked like they'd been healed somewhat. So he must have probably fought someone.
Someone quite strong too. Seeing as I don't think any of those crusaders could've been the one, maybe it was the bishop?
But if it was and he's here, alive, then the bishop is dead huh.
Which would explain the car I saw Ben in, heading towards the western part of town. If they had any hideout there it would make sense to hide there and wait if the bishop had called in reinforcements.
Haaa. Another reason to leave. I basically killed Ben. If the church discovers my mana signature in the car crash and I'm still here by then, I'll be executed.
Another reason to leave.
Suddenly, surprising me, the man smiled.
An unhinged, calm smile. Like someone who enjoyed killing their opponent slowly. But not in rage. In deliberate fascination.
"My name," he said, voice eerily calm, "is Roland. I'm a priest of the Demon Cult. And you, I presume, are the one who's been killing my subordinates left, right huh."
I stared at him for a minute. Not moving or blinking.
And without knowing it–
"...Richard," I replied, cracking my knuckles.
I was smiling.
"The guy who's going to kill you."