Impossible impossible impossible impossible. What the hell is going on, I don't understand this at all. Why do I have to go through something like this? Who do you people think I am? I am the Archbishop of Sin "Greed,"
"Raaaaaaah!!"
Rising, rising, spiraling up in a violent gale, Regulus's body hurtled into the night sky.
The instant the impact struck from below, Regulus activated "Lion's Heart," halting his own heartbeat and entering a state of invincibility. As a result, the slash's damage was nullified—but— "Guh, gub—!"
Gasping for breath, Regulus groaned through a vision flickering with agony.
The maximum duration Regulus could stop time for himself, down to his heart included, was five seconds. During that window, he could act without any problem, exactly as he had when he'd entrusted Lion's Heart to his bride. But if he demanded any more time than that, his body would be unable to resume from the stopped state.
On top of that, the suffering caused by his heart—stalled for so long—rushing back to life once Lion's Heart was deactivated could not be covered. Pain and suffering—for the first time in well over a hundred years.
"You've got to be… kidding… damn you…"
Spitting venom through mouthfuls of blood, the ascending Regulus couldn't even speak properly. His blown-away body was beyond his control, and with no way to gauge the force behind the blow, the upward momentum never weakened, carrying him to a height where the entirety of Water Gate City Pristella spread out below.
Water Gate City Pristella—when he'd read in the Gospel that the vacancy there—the bride's empty spot—was to be filled, he'd simply been grateful for his good fortune. And now this.
"Something like… something this idiotic can't be happening!!"
He'd lost every bride he'd painstakingly assembled, his position as Archbishop of Greed itself was being threatened, he'd been cursed out by a foul-mouthed brat with nothing but a glib tongue, and he'd been pitied by the very harlot he'd set his sights on.
There was no greater humiliation. He'd never tasted such shame. Wasn't it precisely to avoid experiencing such aggravating feelings that he'd become an Archbishop of Sin in the first place? And yet, to be subjected to this—then everything was wrong.
"Enough, enough, ENOUGH…!"
Sparing them was out of the question. He'd shown them more than enough mercy already. It didn't matter that they'd seen through the power of Lion's Heart, or that inhuman Sword Saint was standing right there.
With five seconds of cardiac arrest, Regulus had no shortage of ways to kill them all. He'd never bothered before because he couldn't see their despairing faces or hear their death screams, and he simply hadn't felt the urge—but no more.
While Lion's Heart kept him in a state of invincibility, Regulus could, if he so chose, act while ignoring every physical law of the world. He could move faster than the wind, traverse dimensions beyond common sense in an instant, and unleash force so overwhelming it seemed unearthly—and obliterate every last one of them.
He could simply use his Authority of "Greed" to lift himself into the sky and then scatter sand from above to blanket the entire city—and that alone would be enough to annihilate them all. Other Archbishops of Sin were in the city too, but whether those people lived or died meant nothing to him. In this very moment, was there anything more important than extracting himself from this humiliation? He'd paint the grinning faces of those conceited fools with sheer terror.
When this absurd upward momentum finally stopped and he fell back to earth, that would be their end. Until then, they could enjoy their surface-level victory to their hearts' content— "Agh—?!"
Still cursing under his breath, Regulus screamed as a fresh impact struck his back.
Looking up—or rather, sensing it—Regulus's upward momentum had been halted abruptly, as if his body had been pinned in midair. The sensation was like being stepped on by something hanging in the sky above.
"In a proper duel, I would have sheathed my sword the moment you lost the will to fight, but well…"
That voice came from directly above, belonging to the person standing on the back of the upside-down Regulus, speaking with absolute composure.
A being who stood on his back in midair—whoever it was, Regulus understood in an instant. And the instant he understood, terror seized him. Did they have any idea how high up they were right now?
How could someone possibly reach this altitude faster than Regulus himself—who had been blasted upward with such force?
"Not to brag, but I'm quite confident in my jumping ability. I've leaped from the ground onto the back of a dragon flying above the clouds."
"You, you beast…!"
"That's right. I am a monster that hunts monsters. —It's time you accepted your fate, too."
Reinhard's foot left Regulus's back.
The instant those words were spoken, Regulus sensed the killing intent bearing down on him. Throughout his life, he had fought powerful opponents countless times—and learned absolutely nothing from any of it.
And yet, for all his negligence, his body reacted. The memory of past attacks from strong fighters—attacks delivered with a yawn, not even registered in conscious memory—responded.
—Lion's Heart activated, and the attack came simultaneously.
"O-o-o-o-o-oh!!"
A hand-chop from Reinhard crashed into the dead center of Regulus's back.
The blow—perhaps surpassing even the cutting edge of the finest blade—struck Regulus full-on. Though he was still riding the tail end of his invincibility and absorbed only the impact, he was sent plummeting straight toward the ground below.
The earth rushed closer and closer, and Regulus slammed face-first into the cobblestones. But Lion's Heart's effect persisted, and like a body being swallowed whole, he bored into the ground.
Regulus's body pierced through the cobblestones in a straight line, broke through solid bedrock, and burrowed into the earth itself. Continuing to tunnel downward without resistance, Regulus suddenly realized.
If his momentum didn't stop, his body would fall all the way to the bottom of the earth. He'd never considered whether the earth even had a bottom. But the ground of this world did have edges. Surrounded on all sides by the Great Waterfall, this world surely had an endpoint where the falls cascaded down into the abyss.
If his fall continued at this rate, would he reach that edge?
"That can't possibly… be tolerable—guh?!"
Literally choking on an unfathomable terror, Regulus felt his heart's limit arrive.
Five seconds had elapsed. The danger signal blared, and Regulus wavered in his judgment. He had never stopped his heart for more than five seconds inside his own body. Ten seconds was probably impossible. And even if he extended the time, it would only mean boring deeper.
But if the ability were deactivated now—while he was submerged in the earth—what would happen?
—There was no time to deliberate. Dying from holding his own heart too long would be too ridiculous for words.
"Mmgh, uuuuuu, uuuuuuuuu—!!"
Gritting the teeth that threatened to chatter, Regulus steeled himself.
Heeding the voice of his heart demanding that it resume beating, Regulus released Lion's Heart's power. His invincibility dissolved, his body's durability returned to normal, and the laws of physics reasserted themselves— "Pueh—?!"
Every bone in his body shattered.
That was the level of impact that struck his flesh without mercy.
Of course. He had been boring into the ground at speeds far exceeding free fall, and without any of that momentum being blunted, his body had continued tunneling through the earth. The only reason he hadn't been torn to pieces was because there was simply no room in the narrow tunnel for fragments to scatter into.
However, that only applied to lateral expansion. Vertically was another matter entirely.
"Ahh… awooh…"
A hollow sound escaped Regulus's lips, and from his completely crushed eyes, tears of blood flowed. The impact had pierced through his entire body vertically, destroying it from end to end.
Without exaggeration, every bone in his body had sustained damage beyond mere fractures, and his insides had been churned to mush. His white hair, unblemished by any force, was now coated in blood and filth, and from his ruined lower abdomen, excrement and urine flowed freely.
What remained was no longer a human shape—just a lump of meat.
And yet, remarkably, that lump of meat still drew breath.
"Aah… uhhh…"
A horrifying attachment to life—no, this wasn't attachment. It should be called spite.
It wasn't a desire to live. All that remained was resentment toward the living beings still above him. Even in this state, what drove him forward was nothing but an empty vanity.
If I got serious, you people would be—that was all.
"Eoh… ugh."
But do not underestimate that obsession.
This being, who had spent his entire existence solely to avoid being pitied, had refined and twisted his nature over more than a hundred years without it chipping even slightly—and it now rendered a judgment optimal for his own survival.
Repeating "Lion's Heart" for extremely brief activations, Regulus dug through the earth. Once he entered a state of invincibility, physical damage meant nothing. If he couldn't feel pain, then moving his battered body incurred no further harm. Regulus dug with his bare hands.
His body, buried head-first, rotated within the hollowed-out earth. If he could just turn his head upward, all that remained was to dig slowly back to the surface. And once he surfaced, those conceited maggots who'd gotten cocky from their misunderstanding would be dancing with joy, thinking they'd defeated Regulus.
Unforgivable. There was no way he could forgive this.
Being mocked, being looked down upon, being pitied—these were unbearable torments. Not only slander during his lifetime, but even after death? Unacceptable. Ah, yes. He should have just done it quickly and cleanly. Every visible thing, every invisible thing—annihilate them all, and no one would ever speak ill of him again. He should have done that from the start. He wouldn't make the same mistake this time. Once he surfaced and killed those three, the rest would follow.
"————"
Without making another sound, Regulus channeled his spite into strength and continued digging.
When he reached the surface, he looked forward to the sight of those fools begging for their lives once he got serious. Especially that woman—he had to thoroughly humiliate her, the one who'd been mocking him all along. His seventy-ninth wife, or rather, the woman who was supposed to be. That woman, who should have been occupying that vacant spot, had originally been an elf girl from a desolate forest—a forest where the loathsome Petelgeuse had also been…
—.
————.
——————.
Aaaaaaaaaah. Aaaaaaaaaaah. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
He remembered. He remembered now.
That girl! It was her! No—the child from back then!
When he'd gone to claim his seventy-ninth wife, the child who'd been fluttering around that woman, wailing and crying—that child! That child had grown into the woman she was now!
He understood at a glance why he'd wanted to give that vacant spot to that woman. It was simple. She was taking her mother's place, so it was only natural for her to sit there.
That was the child who had treasured the seventy-ninth wife that mocked him, and the fool Petelgeuse. Why hadn't he realized sooner? No—he was glad he'd realized now.
If he'd killed her without ever realizing, the satisfaction would never have come. It was precisely because he now clearly recognized their fault that killing them would hold value. Only now would there be a sense of accomplishment worthy of this humiliation. Only now, freshly aware of it, was there meaning in fulfilling his desire.
I'll defile you, seventy-ninth. I'll take from you, Petelgeuse.
That girl—the one you treasured, the one who pitied me, the one who looked at me with sympathy.
"Ahh… hehehe…"
An impulse detonated deep in his throat, and Regulus was overcome with elation.
He had no teeth left. His shredded lips stretched into a grin. Hope of living surged through him. The joy of plucking away what his tormentors had desperately tried to protect.
Climb up, climb up, climb up, and then— "—?"
Digging upward, Regulus suddenly felt something touch the tip of his fingers. He lowered his right hand—he could no longer tell where it was—and stared at it with sightless eyes through the clump of blood and mud. The surface was faintly wet with something that wasn't blood.
He tasted it. It was bitter like mud, but it was water.
Water. It was water. The instant he understood it was water, Regulus became aware of his parched throat. A single drop wasn't enough. He wanted enough water to soothe his throat and fill his stomach. Lion's Heart's effect had worn off and time had returned to his body, and Regulus was now seeking nourishment after a near-century of absence.
Water would do for now. A supreme flavor awaited him. And the very moment he thought this, water trickled down from above, exactly as he wished.
He latched onto the muddy water with his mouth. His teeth were gone, his tongue was torn to shreds, and blood poured endlessly from his mouth, but the water was undeniably good. He was filled. Or so he felt.
—The moment immediately following, the flow of water surged dramatically, and Regulus's excavated body was dropped once again to the lowest depths.
"Aah, uh, oah?"
Flowing in. Flowing in and in. Into the earth with no room to escape, water poured without end.
This was beneath a surface with no excess space. In the blink of an eye, Regulus's body was swallowed by the reek-laden water, and he lost all freedom of movement.
—Regulus likely could not comprehend what was happening to him now.
This was the water that had been flowing through Pristella's waterways, directly above his head.
Regulus, struck by Reinhard's blow, had pierced through the city streets and burrowed underground. And now the water from the city's damaged, flooded waterways was flowing into the very tunnel his own body had carved through the earth. It surged in without stopping, striking Regulus down and submerging the murderer.
As though expressing the fury of the city and its people, their beautiful streets torn asunder.
"Goh, bwoah…"
Of course, Regulus—currently drowning—could notice none of this.
Buried in the earth and subjected to water torture, Regulus thrashed in terror as the pressure of water tried to force its way into his lungs. But there was no room in the earth to thrash. All he could do was curl into a ball in the mud and retreat into Lion's Heart.
While Lion's Heart was active, he was spared the agony of suffocation. The agony of his destroyed body was likewise nullified.
But Lion's Heart could not last beyond five seconds. The moment his heart signaled its limit, the terror of death would drag Regulus back to his waterlogged hell.
An alternating summons to death.
Neither could be chosen. Both had to be rejected. But Regulus had no strategy for that. All he had were his grievances against this injustice.
His time limit was slipping away.
Lion's Heart could be repeated indefinitely, but his ability to breathe could not. And to re-activate Lion's Heart, he needed a gap of several seconds.
Cardiac arrest.
Drowning.
Cardiac arrest.
Drowning.
Cardiac arrest—.
Drowning—.
Pain and suffering that seemed to stretch on without end, as if they would continue for eternity.
Regulus opened his mouth. Water and mud flooded in. As they invaded his lungs and organs, Regulus screamed. He screamed and screamed in a voice that wasn't even a voice.
There was no answer. No one was by his side.
And still he screamed—screaming with all his hatred, wishing that every human in the world could die.
The thought of being ridiculed after his own death was absolutely unacceptable.
The thought of that girl prancing around, celebrating that she'd taken revenge for her mother and Petelgeuse—unacceptable.
The very idea that that girl would rejoice at Regulus's death, jumping up and down in delight—just thinking about it made him want to vomit.
She'd make it her life's goal, her reason for living, and pretend she'd achieved it.
She'd declare that Regulus's death had set her life in motion, made it shine—those were the exact meaningless words she'd use.
The thought of that girl being satisfied by a joy so misplaced, so entirely wrong, so utterly irrational—unbearable.
The thought that his death would leave some enormous, enormous impact on that girl's heart—uh.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Regulus Corneas, shattered through the cobblestones, sunk into the earth.
Into the grave his own body had carved, the water from the Water Gate City poured in massive quantities. How far he had sunk was unclear. But considering the limits of his Authority, he probably hadn't traveled to the other side of the world and broken through.
Nine times out of ten, the effect would wear off somewhere underground, and he would be crushed under his own momentum. And even if he somehow wasn't, the flood of water would never let the murderer escape.
The criminal, drowned by his own powerful Authority, would meet his end drowned by the retribution of the city he had destroyed.
"…You don't look too relieved,
Subaru spoke, watching Emilia's face as she stared intently at the hole where Regulus had sunk. He could see a faint sorrow in her profile.
There was not a shred of sympathy owed to that criminal. Emilia should have felt the same way—she shouldn't have been pained by his fate underground— "Being kind is a good thing about you, Emilia-tan, but I don't think you should be extending that even to this guy. Truly hopeless people do exist."
"…Thank you for worrying about me. But that's not it. It's not that."
"Hm?"
In response to Subaru's concern, Emilia shook her head slowly.
Then she fell silent for a moment, lowering her eyes framed by long lashes, and— "About Regulus… ever since the first time I saw him, I've felt like I'd met him somewhere before?"
"So it wasn't your first meeting? When was it then?"
"That's the thing—I can't remember."
At Subaru's question, Emilia tilted her head.
It was, fittingly, at the exact same moment that Regulus—sinking beneath the earth—let out his silent scream.
A scream that could never reach her, from a criminal who wished above all that Emilia would not celebrate his death.
His own existence, entangled with both a mother's death and a benefactor's madness—the girl would surely carry that as an indelible mark on her life. He didn't want her to be fulfilled by his death.
And the final wish of that criminal, which could never reach the surface, was this: "—Where exactly did I meet Regulus, I wonder?"
That Regulus Corneas had left no impact whatsoever on Emilia.
In this bitterly ironic form, his wish was perfectly granted.
Not even a person who deserved vengeance could remain in her heart.
Whether one pities that is up to the reader.