Chapter 20: ...Of the Third Trumpet.

“Taken, huh?”

Hiroto chuckled as he watched the last traces of red mist dissipate above the goblin horde. It was an interesting answer, considering that he hadn't even gotten to the part where he offered her anything worthwhile.

Then again, he supposed he should have expected something like that from a demon general.

Ordinarily, people became just a little more agreeable in his presence. Their suspicions softened, their hostility weakened, and even those who initially disliked him eventually found themselves reconsidering their opinions. It was convenient, especially when dealing with women who had no intention of entertaining his advances.

He had felt his influence reach her, only for it to slide away as though there was nothing for it to grasp.

Sei was troublesome because she could cleanse herself before his influence properly settled. Elaister was a different sort of nuisance, practically impossible to affect in the first place.

And now this crow-masked girl had joined their rather exclusive company.

“What is it with masked girls recently?”

A goblin answered by lunging at his throat.

Hiroto caught it by the forehead and crushed its skull between his fingers, scattering blood and fragments of bone across the creatures crowding behind it. Before the body had even touched the ground, he kicked another goblin hard enough to send it through six of its companions.

He was beginning to understand why Kestrel had struggled against this army.

Individually, the creatures were worthless. Even the largest among them would have been little more than target practice for someone of his caliber, but they were numerous enough to become irritating. Whenever he cleared a path, another wave rushed forward to fill it, their movements driven by a frenzy that left little room for self-preservation.

And somewhere within that endless procession was a girl who could disappear whenever she pleased.

Hiroto looked toward the trees and spotted a crow perched on a branch above the army, its black eyes fixed upon him.

“Found you.”

He bent his knees and launched himself upward.

The ground collapsed beneath his feet, sending goblins tumbling into the crater left behind. He passed through the branches with enough force to tear several apart and reached for the crow just as it spread its wings.

The bird burst apart.

A spray of blackened flesh struck his palm, and something slender shot out from within the collapsing body, aiming directly for his eye.

Hiroto tilted his head.

The needle passed his cheek and buried itself in the trunk behind him. It was a length of sharpened bone attached to a thin strand of grey flesh, which tightened suddenly and pulled the remains of the crow toward a neighboring branch.

There, balanced comfortably against the trunk, stood Lut.

“My, my. You're quite rude to my birdies.”

“I thought you didn't want to talk.”

“I said I was taken.”

“Right. So who's the lucky fellow?”

“No fellow.”

“Then there's still hope for me.”

Lut stared at him through her crow mask.

“I don't believe you understand what taken means.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.”

Hiroto stepped onto the branch, his hand reaching for the collar of her black robe.

Lut's arm split open.

Grey material unfolded from beneath her sleeve, exposing something that resembled a second forearm made entirely of polished bone. A curved blade emerged along its length, growing from her wrist toward her elbow.

She swung it across his approaching hand and Hiroto caught the blade between two fingers.

“Well, that's interesting.”

Hiroto twisted his hand.

The bone snapped with a sharp crack, but rather than recoil, Lut allowed her ruined arm to unravel into several long, flexible strands. They whipped around his wrist and tightened, each strand sprouting tiny hooks that attempted to dig into his flesh.

Hiroto pulled.

Lut came flying toward him.

“Ah.”

He grinned.

“Got you.”

Her other arm lengthened abruptly, extending past him to wrap around the trunk of a nearby tree. The moment it tightened, her entire body twisted sideways, carrying her out of his grasp while the tendrils around his wrist tore apart.

She landed upon another branch, her damaged arm already knitting itself back together.

Hiroto examined the grey residue left on his fingers. It hardened briefly before crumbling into dust.

“Are you some kind of slime?”

“No.”

“An undead?”

“No.”

“A particularly ugly species of elf?”

“No!”

“So you can take offense.”

“Very.”

Lut's hand opened and five narrow blades shot from her fingertips.

Hiroto brushed them aside, only for the blades to bend unnaturally around his hand and continue toward his throat. He caught two, snapped another with his teeth, and swept his arm through the remaining strands.

The motion produced enough wind to strip the branches around them.

Lut vanished, red mist appeared where she had stood.

“You're not getting away that easily~”

He leapt after a movement among the branches, passing through the spot where Lut had reappeared just as she dropped toward the forest floor.

She landed amid the goblins, her boots sinking into the blood-soaked earth.

Hiroto followed, yet before his feet touched the ground, Lut placed a hand against the nearest goblin.

The goblin's body convulsed.

The creature's spine bent backward, its limbs swelling grotesquely as its bones shifted beneath its skin. The goblin screamed while its torso expanded, muscles stretching until its body resembled an overinflated sack of meat.

Lut stepped aside.

The creature exploded forward.

Hiroto punched it.

The impact ruptured its enormous body, scattering blood and fragments of flesh in every direction.

Something struck his palm.

A dense, dark object had survived the collision.

It resembled a stone, but its surface was unmistakably organic, with tiny veins pulsing beneath the hardened exterior.

Before he could examine it further, the object burst apart.

A dozen sharpened fragments flew outward, tearing through nearby goblins and embedding themselves in the surrounding trees.

Hiroto shook the residue from his hand.

“Using your own soldiers as ammunition? That's not very nice.”

“They were going to die anyway.”

“That's a rather heartless thing to say.”

Lut extended her arm into the mass of goblins gathering beside her. Her fingers separated into dozens of slender tendrils, each attaching itself to a different creature.

Their bodies began to distort. Some collapsed into masses of twitching flesh, while others were pulled together by strands of exposed muscle.

Bones cracked, limbs fused, and the goblins' desperate shrieks merged into a single hideous chorus as their bodies were compressed into something far denser than their original forms.

Within moments, Lut had gathered nearly twenty creatures into a pulsating sphere hovering over her palm.

Hiroto's smile widened slightly.

“Oh?”

Lut aimed her hand at him.

The compressed mass launched forward with a thunderous report.

Hiroto immediately shifted his weight and struck it from the side.

The projectile changed direction, ripping through the forest besides him. Trees were pulverized along its path, their trunks bursting into splinters as the projectile continued onward until it disappeared beyond the canopy.

Hiroto glanced toward the devastation.

He hadn't expected that much force.

If he had allowed the projectile to strike him directly, it might actually have hurt.

“How fascinating.”

“Thank you.”

“I wasn't complimenting you.”

“You sounded like you were.”

He looked back toward her, but Lut was already moving.

She stretched her leg backward, anchoring her foot against a tree several dozen paces away. Her body followed the unnatural extension before snapping forward, allowing her to cross the distance between them with startling speed.

A blade erupted from her shoulder. Another extended from her knee.

Hiroto met the first with his forearm and shattered the second beneath his heel, but Lut simply used the broken pieces as openings for more growths.

Bone pushed through her clothing in jagged formations, each movement accompanied by the wet sound of flesh tearing and rearranging itself.

One blade came close enough to scrape against his collar, but he seized her wrist and swung her into the ground.

The impact shattered the ground.

Lut's body flattened beneath his grip, her ribs collapsing inward as though someone had crushed an empty metal container.

Then her torso opened.

A cluster of grey tendrils erupted from the cavity, striking at Hiroto's face.

He released her and stepped backward, allowing the tendrils to stab into the ground where he had stood.

Lut pushed herself upright with the tendrils.

Her chest expanded with a series of unpleasant cracks, and the deformation across her torso disappeared as her bones returned to their proper positions.

Unfortunately, her clothing hadn't survived the exchange quite as neatly.

The upper portion of her black robe had split open, exposing her pale skin from her chest down to her waist and stomach. Beneath the torn fabric, a simple black undergarment remained intact.

Hiroto raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that's a pleasant surprise.”

Lut looked down.

“Ah.”

He let his gaze linger.

She was slender, with little in the way of curves, but her exposed skin looked remarkably smooth and supple. Even the faint scars produced by her transformations disappeared within moments, leaving nothing to suggest that her body had been pierced and torn apart.

“Not much to look at up top,” he remarked, “but you've got lovely skin. Very soft-looking.”

Lut remained silent.

“And here I thought demon generals were supposed to be terrifying monsters.”

Her fingers brushed against the torn edge of her robe.

Black threads emerged from the fabric and crawled across her skin, drawing the separated pieces together. In a matter of seconds, the damage vanished, restoring the robe to its original condition.

Hiroto watched with growing curiosity.

“Your clothes too?”

“They're mine.”

“That's not quite what I asked.”

He rested a finger against his chin.

“If you can change your body like that, couldn't you make yourself taller? Or, you know, give yourself a little more in the chest department?”

Lut offered no answer.

“Why stick with that figure?”

She raised her arm.

A long spike of bone emerged from her palm and shot toward his forehead.

Hiroto caught it.

“I was just asking.”

Lut twisted her wrist, causing the spike to branch into several smaller blades. He broke them with a squeeze, and she withdrew what remained of her arm without a word.

He couldn't help feeling that something about her figure was familiar.

It wasn't merely her build. There was something in her posture, the way she held her shoulders, perhaps even the proportions beneath that oversized robe, that reminded him of someone.

But no particular face came to mind.

Then again, her mask didn't help.

“Speaking of which,” Hiroto said, crushing the last fragments of bone in his hand, “can you take that thing off? I'd love to see what you actually look like.”

“No.”

“Come on. We've already gotten rather intimate.”

“You are sexually harrasing me.”

“And you tried to stab my throat.”

“An appropriate response.”

He laughed again.

For someone whose voice barely changed, she was surprisingly entertaining.

A goblin attempted to approach him from behind.

Hiroto kicked backward without looking, sending the creature hurtling through its companions. He followed the movement with a casual sweep of his arm that cleared a broad path through the surrounding army.

Lut watched the destruction without the slightest indication of concern.

“Your birdies are going to run out at this rate,” he said.

“I have more.”

“You certainly do.”

He glanced toward the direction of Thidono.

---

The army had divided into several major streams, and enough goblins were moving toward the town to overwhelm its defenses if nobody intervened. Another force was advancing toward Ulla Dungeon, while the northern border faced an even greater concentration.

It was a troublesome arrangement.

Fortunately, Hiroto had already taken care of the tedious part.

Kestrel was headed toward the dungeon to retrieve Elaister. The assassin had been humiliated by her encounter with Lut, and he doubted she would have accepted an order to rest even if he had given one. Sending her after the elf at least provided something useful for her to accomplish while keeping her away from the enormous crowds against which her abilities were poorly suited.

Serah had gone with her, though her actual task was to slow the goblins approaching the dungeon. With its seal broken, allowing an entire army of demonized monsters to enter the structure would only create more problems. If those creatures managed to disturb whatever lived deeper inside, the resulting catastrophe might become difficult to explain away.

And Hiroto had no intention of allowing their party's reputation to suffer over something so preventable.

The remaining four had been sent north.

Anna was an ordinary horse merchant, and bringing her away from the immediate fighting was the sensible choice. Besides, they needed someone capable of handling the carriage.

Elira's wide-area magic would be far more useful against the concentrated forces threatening the border, while Sei could support the defenders and keep them alive long enough for reinforcements to organize.

The two women could also inform the border garrison that the attack extended beyond their position.

After all, the people stationed there might assume the entire stampede was directed at them. Learning that Thidono and Ulla Dungeon were being attacked simultaneously would help them coordinate a proper response.

It was a perfectly reasonable deployment.

Even Altair had been given an appropriate assignment.

The mule had accompanied the carriage.

The northern route contained the greatest concentration of demonized goblins, and while Elira and Sei could certainly protect themselves, they couldn't be expected to watch over every useless companion during a prolonged battle.

Altair would have to survive on his own.

Hiroto smiled.

If the boy happened to die, well, that would be unfortunate.

Very unfortunate indeed.

Sei would undoubtedly be devastated.

For all her irritating resistance, the Saint's attachment to that worthless porter remained the most inconvenient obstacle between Hiroto and what he wanted. He could have killed Altair himself long ago, but doing so would have risked turning Sei against him permanently.

And he had already learned that forcing his influence upon someone who could recognize and cleanse it was considerably less effective than allowing their own emotions to create an opening.

Grief could accomplish what persistence had not.

Once Altair was gone, Sei would need someone to comfort her.

He imagined her finally looking toward him with the same devotion the others displayed.

What a lovely thought.

Unfortunately, he couldn't guarantee that outcome while Altair remained under Elira and Sei's protection.

Which brought him back to the rather unusual girl standing before him.

---

“Say, Lut.”

She had begun assembling another projectile from the goblins gathered around her.

“Yes?”

“How about a different proposal?”

“You already asked me to join your party.”

“And you broke my heart. But I'm willing to forgive that.”

“How generous.”

“You came here for a reason, didn't you?”

“Of course.”

“Something involving the town, the dungeon, and the border, I imagine.”

“Perhaps.”

“Then how about I let you do whatever you're planning?”

The tendrils extending from Lut's sleeve stopped moving.

Hiroto spread his hands.

“I won't interfere with your objective. You can take what you want, destroy whatever you need, and make as much of a mess as you like. When you're finished, I'll clean up afterward. Everyone gets what they want, and nobody needs to make this more complicated than necessary.”

Lut regarded him quietly.

“And what would you want in return?”

“There's a boy in my party. Altair.”

“Ah.”

“You know him?”

“I've seen him.”

“Then that makes things easier. He's traveling toward the northern border right now, along with three of my companions. I'd appreciate it if you could help me get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Hiroto shrugged.

“Personal reasons.”

Lut remained motionless for a moment. Then she chuckled.

“Gha.ha.ha.ha.”

There was something almost childish about the sound, despite its unnaturally even rhythm.

“What?”

“Your proposal is very funny.”

“I thought it was rather reasonable.”

“Oh, it is reasonable. That's what makes it funny.”

She lowered the sphere of flesh in her hand.

“Whether Thidono falls, whether the border is overrun, or whether the dungeon spills its monsters into the forest, none of those things matter to me.”

Hiroto's smile narrowed slightly.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Then why send an army in three directions?”

“Because I wanted to.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of effort for something you don't care about.”

“Is it?”

Lut glanced at the creatures surrounding them.

One of her tendrils reached down and gently patted a goblin on its misshapen head.

The creature trembled.

“My birdies and their little friends have worked very hard. It would be rude to tell them their efforts were meaningless.”

“You just told me that yourself.”

“That's different.”

“How?”

“They can't understand you.”

Lut continued stroking the goblin's head.

“My objective is already nearing fruition. You may destroy every goblin in this forest, Hero, and it won't change what has been set in motion.”

There was no boastfulness in her voice. She spoke with the simple certainty of someone describing tomorrow's sunrise.

Hiroto had assumed the stampede was intended to weaken the kingdom's defenses, perhaps as a prelude to invasion. It was the sort of strategy he expected from an enemy commander, particularly one entrusted with such an enormous army.

But if destroying the army wouldn't interfere with her plans, perhaps he had misunderstood something.

Not that it particularly mattered. Whatever she was attempting, he doubted it could become a problem he couldn't solve.

“You're making me curious.”

“That's not good.”

“Care to explain?”

“No.”

“That's cruel.”

“Thank you.”

The goblin beneath her hand began to change.

Its body swelled, and a second pair of arms pushed out from beneath its shoulders. Its jaw lengthened as new teeth forced their way through the gums, while layers of grey material spread across its torso.

Lut removed her hand.

The creature stood taller than the others, its newly formed muscles twitching as it examined its altered body. It roared.

Hiroto punched it in the stomach.

The goblin folded around his fist before flying backward into the surrounding horde, its newly acquired strength doing little to prevent its immediate defeat.

Lut watched it disappear.

“Aw.”

“Sorry. Reflex.”

“It was still growing.”

She sighed.

Hiroto folded his arms.

“So, if you don't care about the town or the border, what do you care about?”

Lut raised her mask toward him.

For the first time since their encounter began, she seemed genuinely pleased to have been asked a question.

“Nee-sama.”

“Nee-sama?”

“My goddess.”

“Oh? You're religious?”

“Of course. I am in a cult.”

“I didn't know demon generals worshipped gods.”

“The Goddess.”

“What's the difference?”

“There's only one worth worshipping.”

Her answer came immediately.

The goblins around them continued marching, their snarls blending with the distant sounds of crashing trees and trembling earth, but Lut appeared to have forgotten their existence entirely.

“She is the one who will right the wrong. The one who looked upon a world filled with suffering and refused to accept that suffering as something inevitable. She saw what others discarded, what they called defective, useless, or unworthy, and understood that none of those things needed to remain as they were.”

Hiroto raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds rather noble for someone commanding an army of monsters.”

“Nee-sama is Nee-sama.”

“And you're not?”

“I am her instrument.”

Lut placed a hand against her chest.

“Her angel, if you prefer. Her other half. The only one who can truly understand what she wants, even when she refuses to acknowledge it herself.”

Her fingers tightened slightly against her robe.

“She is my goddess, and I alone am worthy of being called her left arm. Others may follow her, admire her, or oh kneel before her, but none of them know her as I do. Only me.”

Hiroto listened with an increasingly amused expression.

There was something almost endearing about the way she spoke. Her voice remained remarkably flat, but the words themselves overflowed with affection so intense that it bordered on worship.

Or perhaps worship had already ceased to be an adequate description.

“Nee-sama is kind. Oh much too kind. She forgives the ignorant, shelters the ungrateful, and wastes her brilliance upon those who cannot comprehend what she offers them. She even turns away from oh those who would give her everything.”

The fingers against her chest curled into a fist.

“She denies what she truly is.”

Hiroto noticed the slightest tremor in her voice.

“She shuts her heart because she is afraid of what lies beyond it. Her weakness makes her reject the very loyalty that would free her. But that's all right. I understand. I have always understood.”

For a moment, her posture softened.

“If she cannot bear to face the truth herself, then I will prepare everything for her. I will take away what hurts her, remove what stands in her way, and make certain that when she finally opens her eyes, there will be nothing left to fear.”

Hiroto studied her.

“And if your goddess doesn't want any of that?”

Lut's fingers tightened until the fabric beneath them creaked.

“She does.”

“Even if she says otherwise?”

“She simply doesn't know it yet. Nee-sama is oh a coward at times.”

He laughed.

“Wow. You're really in love with this Nee-sama of yours, aren't you?”

Lut fell silent.

“She's a woman, right?”

“Yes.”

“Is she single?”

The atmosphere changed.

Lut's head slowly turned toward him.

“What?”

Hiroto grinned.

“Well, you've made her sound rather interesting. Beautiful, I assume? Maybe I should meet her. If she's as impressive as you say, perhaps I could even convince her to join my party.”

A faint cracking sound came from beneath Lut's robe.

“Don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Speak about Nee-sama that way.”

“Come on, I'm only asking whether she's available.”

“You are unworthy of saying her name.”

“I don't even know her name.”

“And you never will.”

“Jealous?”

Bone blades erupted from Lut's shoulders, wrists, and elbows, tearing through her robe as dozens of grey tendrils unfurled behin her like the limbs of some grotesque insect..

“Oh, someone's upset.”

“You should learn your place.”

“That's a rather strange thing to tell a Hero.”

“A Hero?”

Lut laughed. This time, the sound carried something colder than amusement.

“You?”

Hiroto's smile stiffened.

“What's so funny?”

“You aren't the Hero.”

He stared at her. For a moment, the only sound between them was the restless movement of the goblin army.

Hiroto forced a laugh.

“Now that's a good joke.”

“It's not a joke.”

“I'd love to know what makes you so certain.”

“Because the Hero would not stand before me with power like yours.”

Hiroto slowly lowered his arms.

“The Hero is weak until the Hero's Sword is claimed. That is how it is supposed to be. The sword is what allows the Hero to become what the world requires.”

She took a small step toward him.

“You possess overwhelming power without it.”

“So?”

“So you are not the Hero. Obviously.”

Hiroto's expression remained pleasant.

Lut continued.

“Whatever authority you possess, it is closer to mine than to the authority of the true Hero. You're something else wearing a title that doesn't belong to you.”

She paused. Then, with a faintly delighted tilt of her head, she added.

“A faker.”

The smile disappeared from Hiroto's face.

“Oh. Did I upset you?”

Hiroto didn't answer immediately.

For years, he had been praised as the Hero. Kings had welcomed him, nobles had bowed before him, and entire cities had celebrated his victories.

He had defeated enemies no ordinary person could hope to challenge. His strength was undeniable, his accomplishments undeniable, and the women who surrounded him were proof enough of the influence he commanded.

Yet this little monster had looked at him and dismissed the entire thing as a lie.

Worse, she had spoken as though it were an obvious fact.

“You know,” Hiroto said quietly, “I was beginning to like you.”

“How unfortunate.”

“Very.”

He disappeared from where he stood.

Lut's head cracked sideways.

Hiroto's fist struck her before her body could finish reacting, tearing through her shoulder and sending the upper half of her torso spinning into the goblin army.

He followed before the remains could land.

Lut's severed arm erupted into a mass of tendrils, each attempting to latch onto a different goblin, but Hiroto swept his hand through them and tore them apart.

He seized her by the collar.

“Let me teach you something.”

Her mask turned toward him.

“Hmm?”

“It's rude to insult someone stronger than you.”

He drove her into the ground.

The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, lifting goblins off their feet and shattering the trunks of nearby trees.

Lut's body compressed beneath his hand.

Flesh, bone, and black fabric scattered across the crater, her upper body was barely recognizable.

Yet even then, a cluster of tendrils emerged from the ruined mass and wrapped around his wrist.

Hiroto ripped them away.

“You're rather persistent yourself.”

He lifted what remained of her and hurled it upward.

A single punch followed and the air detonated.

Lut's body disappeared within the blast, reduced to fragments too small to distinguish from the debris raining down across the forest.

Only her legs remained intact, falling separately into the crater.

Hiroto stood before them, brushing a piece of grey material from his sleeve.

“Such a shame.”

“Oh dear.”

He looked up.

Lut stood upon a branch overhead, her robe perfectly intact.

“You really are quite sensitive.”

Hiroto stared at her.

Another voice came from behind him.

“Is that how Heroes usually respond to criticism?”

He turned.

A second Lut was sitting on the shoulder of a goblin, casually swinging her legs.

Then a third voice spoke from the opposite side of the clearing.

“I suppose we shouldn't expect much from a faker.”

A third Lut emerged from between the trees.

All three wore identical crow masks.

All three had the same short black hair visible beneath their hoods, the same robes, and the same unnaturally calm posture.

Hiroto's gaze moved from one to another.

The Lut above him waved.

“Gha.ha.ha.”

“So you're capable of making copies.”

He looked toward the legs lying in the crater.

“Then the one I killed was just a decoy.”

“Of course.”

“Where's the real you?”

“Not here.”

The Lut sitting on the goblin's shoulder clasped her hands together.

“Did you think I'd come into this forest myself? With so many dangerous people wandering around?”

“You're the one attacking a town.”

“Yes. But I'm not careless.”

The Lut above him extended her hand, a black tendril descended from her sleeve and touched the severed legs in the crater.

They dissolved into a grey mass, which crawled up the tendril and disappeared beneath her robe.

Hiroto watched the process with interest despite himself.

“So even if I destroy all three of you, nothing happens to the real one?”

“That would be a lot of wasted material.”

Hiroto considered attacking again.

There were three of them now, but their movements remained well within his ability to follow. He could probably destroy all three before they accomplished anything meaningful.

The problem was that doing so would achieve very little.

And considering how effortlessly she moved between positions, pursuing her through an army that could provide endless replacement bodies seemed particularly tedious.

The Lut upon the goblin's shoulder tilted her mask.

“Are you going to hit me again?”

“I'm considering it.”

“Please don't.”

“Afraid?”

“No. It's annoying.”

The Lut standing between the trees raised a finger.

“Besides, we were discussing something.”

He looked toward her.

“Oh?”

“Your proposal.”

“Oh?!”

She nodded, “I accept.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

He stared at her for a moment before smiling.

“Well, this is a pleasant development.”

“It is.”

“So you'll help me get rid of Altair?”

“Obviously.”

“And in exchange, I'll let you finish whatever you're doing.”

“You can try to stop me if you want. It won't make much difference.”

“Still convinced of that?”

“Hmm.”

The Lut above him disappeared, red mist lingered among the branches.

The one standing between the trees vanished a moment later, leaving only the figure seated upon the goblin's shoulder.

She regarded Hiroto with apparent satisfaction.

“Actually, I'm already taking care of him.”

Hiroto's smile faded slightly.

“Altair?”

“Mhm.”

“How?”

Lut raised a finger to the beak of her crow mask.

“Secret.”

He sighed.

“You really enjoy being difficult.”

“I learned from the best.”

“And who would that be? Your goddess?”

Lut's shoulders straightened.

“Of course.”

Hiroto decided not to pursue that particular subject again.

“So what's your plan for the boy?”

“A welcome party.”

“For Altair?”

“For Nee-sama.”

He looked at her.

“I thought your goddess wasn't here.”

“She will be.”

“And Altair is part of the celebration?”

“He could be.”

“That doesn't sound very reassuring.”

“Gha.ha.ha.ha. I think Nee-sama will be surprised.”

Hiroto folded his arms.

“As long as the boy is out of my way, I don't particularly care what happens to him.”

“Wonderful. Then everyone can have fun,” she clapped her hands together.

Hiroto glanced toward the endless goblin army.

“Speaking of fun, I suppose I should get back to work. Your little monsters are making quite a mess.”

“Oh, they're not finished yet.”

“Really?”

“Of course not. The Third Trumpet has only just sounded.”

Hiroto looked back at her.

Lut's posture changed slightly. For the first time, she seemed to be assuming something resembling an official bearing.

“You know about the Seeds of Despair, don't you?”

“Vaguely.”

Hiroto did.

It was knowledge more commonly discussed among scholars, high-ranking clergy, and those entrusted with monitoring signs of the Demon Lord's resurrection.

Seven Seeds of Despair, each associated with a sin, appearing in a particular sequence as the resurrection drew nearer.

Pride.

Greed.

Lust.

Wrath.

Gluttony.

Envy.

Sloth.

The order itself was considered significant. The appearance of each Seed represented another trumpet of calamity, another warning that the Demon Lord's return was approaching.

But for all the stories surrounding them, Hiroto had never encountered one personally.

He regarded the little figure sitting before him.

“Don't tell me…”

Lut placed a hand against her chest.

“Blacksuns One, Lut. Bearer of the Seed of Despair, Lust.”

She gave a small, almost playful bow.

“The Third Trumpet.”

Hiroto stared at her.

Then he burst into laughter.

“Lust?!”

Lut remained perfectly still.

“Yes. It was pretty obvious I think.”

He looked her up and down. Then he laughed harder.

“Seriously? Of all the sins, you're Lust?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no. It's just…”

His gaze drifted toward her chest.

Lut raised one hand. A blade emerged from her palm.

Hiroto raised both hands in mock surrender.

“Fine, fine. I won't say anything.”

“Good.”

He chuckled.

“So you've already awakened as a demon general?”

“Not fully.”

“Hmm?”

“The Seed is mine, but my awakening isn't complete.”

Hiroto examined her with renewed interest.

That explained certain things, perhaps.

The sheer abnormality of her abilities was already impressive, and if she had not yet completed whatever transformation came with bearing a Seed of Despair, there was no telling what she might become afterward.

“You're saying you can get even stronger?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“I don't know.”

“That's rather disappointing.”

“I haven't tried yet.”

Then another thought occurred to him.

“If you're the Third Trumpet, that means Pride and Greed have already appeared somewhere.”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“The trumpets sound in order. You know that much.”

“Right. So where are the other bearers?”

Lut said nothing.

Hiroto tilted his head.

“Don't tell me you're the only one in that little cult of yours.”

“Oh, no.”

She shook her head.

“There's another.”

“Another demon general?”

“Another bearer of a Seed.”

Hiroto's expression sharpened.

“Which one?”

“Gha.ha.ha.”

“Pride? Greed?”

Lut pressed a finger against her mask.

“Secret.”

He sighed.

“You know, I'm beginning to think you only have three answers to everything.”

“Then you haven't asked enough questions.”

“Perhaps I should just go find this other bearer myself.”

“You may try.”

“Would your goddess mind?”

“Don't involve Nee-sama.”

“There it is again.”

“She has nothing to do with your foolishness.”

“And yet everything you do seems to involve her.”

“That's because everything worth doing should.”

“You really are hopeless.”

“Thank you.”

Hiroto shook his head before noticing a crow descending through the trees.

It landed upon Lut's outstretched hand, its feathers glossy black and its small claws gripping her fingers.

She brought it close to her mask.

“Come here, little one.”

The crow tilted its head.

Its beak opened.

Something moved inside its throat.

Hiroto watched as a small, many-legged creature slowly crawled out from between the bird's jaws.

Its body was segmented in ways that seemed almost deliberately unnatural, with too many joints arranged along its underside. Beneath its belly was a dark, incomplete circle resembling an eclipse.

The parasite raised its head toward him.

Hiroto frowned.

“What the hell is that?”

“One of my little ones.”

“Another pet?”

“My younger sibling. Or perhaps my child.”

Hiroto stared at her.

“Which is it?”

“Both sound nice.”

“That doesn't answer anything.”

“They are part of me.”

She gently touched the parasite with one fingertip. The creature curled around it.

“Just like my birdies. My little brothers and sisters. My children. However you want to call them, they are all precious parts of myself.”

“Can those things control people?”

“Perhaps.”

“Turn them into monsters?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sounds useful.”

“They are.”

Hiroto smiled, "Could I have one?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You might mistreat it.”

“I'm wounded.”

“You aren't.”

Lut gently guided the parasite back toward the crow. It crawled into the bird's open beak and disappeared down its throat.

The crow swallowed.

Hiroto watched its neck briefly swell before returning to normal.

“That's disgusting.”

“Don't say that. You'll hurt its feelings.”

“The bird or the parasite?”

“Yes.”

Lut extended her arm.

“Now, Hero.”

“What is it, miss not-awaken-yet demon general?”

“Since you've been so kind as to offer me your cooperation, I'd like to give you something.”

“Oh?”

“A small demonstration.”

The crow's body convulsed.

Grey lines appeared beneath its feathers, spreading along its wings and gathering around its chest. Its bones shifted audibly, compressing inward as its muscles rearranged themselves beneath the skin.

Hiroto watched with interest.

The beak extended into a sharp, dark point while the wings folded tightly against its body.

Then Lut's hand closed around it.

“Catch.”

She flicked her wrist.

Hiroto moved. He hadn't intended to dodge.

He had been prepared to knock the projectile aside, just as he had done with everything else she had thrown at him.

But the moment the crow left her hand, something in him recognized that it was moving much faster than the earlier projectiles.

His body reacted before his thoughts caught up and tilted his whole body.

A thin line of black passed beside his face.

The sound came afterward.

A deafening crack tore through the clearing, followed by an explosive shockwave that swept the surrounding goblins from their feet.

Far behind Hiroto, an entire row of trees collapsed.

The projectile had passed through them without visibly slowing, carving a narrow tunnel through the forest before disappearing into the distance.

For several seconds, Hiroto remained motionless.

Then something warm touched his cheek.

He raised his fingers.

A thin red line had appeared across his skin.

Blood.

Hiroto stared at it.

He touched the wound again, watching another small droplet gather beneath his fingertip.

Since arriving in this world, he couldn't recall the last time someone had actually made him bleed.

Yet a single crow had managed to cut his cheek.

A crow.

Hiroto slowly looked toward Lut.

She had both hands folded neatly in front of her.

“Oops.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Oops?”

“I missed.”

“Did you?”

“Perhaps.”

He stared at her for another moment, before a smile broke across his lips.

“Well, well.”

He wiped the blood from his cheek.

“You're full of surprises.”

“Thank you.”

“Was that supposed to kill me?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then what was it supposed to do?”

“Show you something.”

“And what would that be?”

Lut tilted her mask.

“That you should be more careful.”

Hiroto laughed softly. The wound was insignificant. Barely a scratch, and certainly nothing that could threaten him.

But it was there.

For the first time in a very long while, he had encountered someone capable of making him pay attention.

And she was supposedly not even fully awakened.

“How exciting.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

“Perhaps I'll take you seriously next time.”

“You should.”

Lut gently patted the goblin beneath her.

“Although I don't think we'll have another opportunity today.”

“Running away already?”

“No. I have things to do.”

“Your welcome party?”

“Mhm.”

“And my little request?”

“Already being handled.”

Hiroto considered asking another question, but he doubted she would provide anything useful.

Instead, he gestured toward the marching army.

“So, are you going to call off your monsters?”

Lut shook her head.

“No.”

“Why not? We've already made our agreement.”

“Because I want you to have fun too.”

Hiroto raised an eyebrow.

“Fun?”

“A parting gift.”

She extended both arms.

The sleeves of her robe unraveled into long, grey strands that spread across the surrounding clearing.

The goblins nearest her began to convulse.

Hiroto watched as the tendrils touched one creature after another, piercing their flesh and dragging them into two enormous gatherings of writhing bodies.

Their bones snapped beneath the pressure of neighboring bodies. Limbs fused together, torsos melted into swollen masses of muscle, and layers of darkened flesh spread across the growing structures.

Hundreds of creatures were pulled into each mass.

The surrounding army continued moving, but the goblins caught by Lut's tendrils were unable to escape. They were dragged inward, their bodies compressed and reshaped until the two masses towered over the nearby trees.

Hiroto whistled.

“Now that's quite a trick.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you making more ammunition?”

“No.”

Two crows descended from the canopy.

One landed atop each enormous mass.

Lut raised her hands.

“Go on, birdies.”

The crows plunged into the flesh.

The masses shuddered.

Dark material spread across their surfaces, forming enormous shells that hardened into glossy black structures. Their interiors pulsed with demonic mana, and the earth beneath them cracked as something inside began pushing outward.

Hiroto stepped back, watching with open curiosity.

A long, muscular arm burst through the first shell.

Then another.

A grotesque head emerged, followed by a second head attached to the same thick neck.

The creature tore itself free.

It possessed four arms, two heavily muscled and two unnaturally elongated, each covered in a dark exoskeleton resembling polished obsidian. Its swollen torso was webbed with thick veins, while its backward-bending legs ended in claws capable of digging deep into the earth.

One head snarled, exposing jagged teeth that seemed to grow directly from the bone.

The other grinned through torn gums, its mouth stretched around rows of malformed fangs.

The shell surrounding it dissolved into liquid shadow.

That shadow flowed toward its hands and hardened into four black swords shaped like warped vertebrae.

The creature raised all four weapons.

“KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHH!!!”

Hiroto laughed.

“That's more like it!”

Beside the first creature, the second shell began to rupture.

Another enormous figure emerged.

Its proportions differed slightly from the first, with a broader torso and longer upper arms, but it possessed the same two-headed structure, the same black exoskeleton, and the same four grotesque swords.

Both monsters radiated a concentrated, oppressive demonic presence.

“Demon Goblin Lords,” Lut announced pleasantly.

“Lords?”

“Mhm. Two of them.”

Hiroto examined the pair.

Their mana was dense enough to make the air around them tremble, and their bodies were visibly continuing to adjust, their newly formed muscles swelling and contracting as though testing their own strength.

He could already imagine the damage they would cause if allowed to reach a populated area.

“Are these supposed to be your strongest soldiers?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“They're just presents.”

“Such generosity.”

“You're welcome.”

The first Demon Goblin Lord turned one of its heads toward him.

The second head opened its mouth.

A low, rumbling growl emerged from deep within its swollen throat.

The other Lord began dragging its swords across the ground, carving deep furrows through the earth as it approached.

Hiroto rolled his shoulders.

He supposed the little demon general had been right about one thing.

This was turning into an entertaining afternoon.

“By the way, Lut.”

She looked toward him.

“Yes?”

“When we meet again, I'll be expecting a proper introduction to your goddess.”

Lut went still, a faint crack emerged from beneath her mask.

“Don't.”

He grinned.

“Still jealous?”

“Nee-sama belongs to no one.”

“How noble. Have fun, Faker.”

Hiroto's smile twitched.

“You really enjoy calling me that.”

“Because it's true.”

He took a step toward her.

Lut vanished.

A faint red mist appeared where she had been sitting, leaving the goblin beneath her looking momentarily confused by the sudden absence of its passenger.

Hiroto clicked his tongue.

“Annoying little brat.”

The nearest Demon Goblin Lord roared.

Its four arms moved in unison, raising the black swords above its heads as it charged toward him.

The second followed immediately, its heavy footsteps causing the earth to tremble.

Hiroto looked at the pair and chuckled.

“Fine. If that's how she wants to play…”

He lowered his stance. The first Lord brought all four swords down.

Hiroto met them with a single raised hand.

The impact shook the clearing, splitting the ground beneath his feet and sending a violent gust through the surrounding army.

His boots sank several inches into the earth.

Yet, the creature's four arms trembled instead.

Hiroto smiled.

“Let's see how long you two can entertain me.”

He tightened his fingers around the blades.

Then, with a cheerful laugh, he stepped forward.

---

Deep within Ulla Dungeon, the stone door to the dungeon core room stood slightly ajar.

An orange light, creeping toward crimson, spilled through the narrow opening and stretched across the empty corridor.

There was nothing waiting beyond the door, no trap prepared to punish intruders, nor a trace of the creatures that should have defended the deepest chamber of the dungeon.

The room was empty. Yet it was not a room that belonged in this world.

From the entrance, the chamber resembled the rooftop of an impossibly tall building. A metal railing bordered its edge, and beyond that railing stretched a safety mesh of wire rope. One section of the mesh had been bent outward, its twisted strands bearing a distinct indentation where something had climbed against it.

Two black shoes rested on the floor near the railing and the damaged wire.

Beyond the imitation rooftop, enormous pillars of stone rose into the darkness, their shapes resembling the distant silhouettes of high-rise buildings that had never existed in this world.

Between those pillars hung the dungeon core.

Its light was the color of a dying sunset, orange deepening into crimson as it illuminated the empty space beneath it.

The entire chamber was a recreation of a scenery burned into a sinner's soul, an image that no one in this world could have known except the sinner themselves.

And just outside that room, lying upon the cold stone floor of the entrance corridor, was Elaister.

She had curled herself into a fetal position, her knees drawn tightly against her chest and her body folded inward as though she were trying to disappear.

The orange light shone pathetically upon her.

Her mechanical arm lay motionless beside her, its metal fingers resting against the floor.

Countless eclipse-crested parasites covered her body like a living blanket, crawling across her clothing and gathering along her limbs, her torso, and her shoulders.

Only her neck and head remained uncovered.

More parasites continued emerging from the dungeon core room, crawling through the slightly opened doorway and moving toward her with a strange, almost affectionate persistence.

They climbed over one another to reach her, spreading across the places the others had not yet covered, as though they were trying to embrace her.

The familiar purple glow of her mask's visor was nowhere to be found.

She remained curled upon the floor, motionless beneath the weight of the creatures gathering around her.

Then a voice, barely a whisper, emerged from the pathetic creature.

“Why must you torture me like this, Mi…”

---

つづく

---

=Next time: The 21th, Dissonance.=

Nothing has value. Everything is useful.