The war between the Empire and Black Fang. No—the war between the Empire and Ataolf would be more accurate. By now, it had become less a battle than a one-sided slaughter.
The fog that had protected them was gone, and so too had the influence that had ruled them on the level of brainwashing vanished in an instant.
The remaining forces scattered in panic and tried to flee, but where was there to run? All around them were only the merciless blades of the Imperial Army, which had endured within the fog.
Even if the demonized ones turned into monsters and ran wild, so long as sight and senses remained intact, they were not enough to stop the Empire’s knight orders.
The Imperial Army, having surrounded the entirety of the forest, advanced inward at a terrifying speed. Their destination was the gray castle located at the center of the forest. And within it, the tallest spire.
Atop the high spire that came into view after only a short distance into the forest, only one person stood alone.
The ceiling had long since been blown away, and the walls were so tattered that the place was no different from the open air.
The mage standing there was Hio Pavlenko.
With his head tilted back and his gaze turned toward the sky, Hio murmured.
“He really left.”
Ataolf’s enormous soul had truly disappeared without so much as looking back.
The moment he confirmed that Vitalianus was alive, he had left as if he did not want to remain in this hell for even a second longer.
Hio looked up at the sky for a while, then slowly lowered his head.
Only then did the miserable scene around him come into view.
Ataolf’s body, its soul gone and only an empty shell remaining, lay on the floor with its heart pierced by an old sword.
And beside it, Vitalianus lay sprawled out.
A faint sound of breathing could be heard. He was truly, barely alive.
Even a superhuman had had Ataolf’s sword driven in right beside his heart. And it was not even an ordinary sword made of iron.
The sword of the Black Mist—the strongest on the continent—formed by compressing and compressing the power of the black fog.
With that stuck right next to his heart, he had still conveyed everything he wished to say, so the fact that he was alive at all could only be called very much like Vitalianus.
In any case, the two had in common that a sword had pierced their chests, though their outward appearances were relatively intact.
Compared to the remaining person, that was.
A blood-soaked face could be glimpsed between the gaps of the collapsed wall.
“…Airaits.”
The second villain, who had joined hands with Ataolf for her own gain. Airaits.
Buried in the rubble, she was staring up at the sky with empty eyes.
There was no need to say what shape the body hidden beneath had taken.
Because it was utterly horrific.
It was the price she had paid for buying a fleeting moment against Ataolf, not even a full second.
Airaits’s ability was one that reached its peak when she concealed her own location.
Conversely, once the location of her main body was revealed—worse, once she was placed right before Ataolf’s eyes—she had virtually no means of resisting.
Though there was no way she had not known that, Airaits had willingly stepped forward, and as the price, she had been left in that wretched state, buried beneath the wreckage.
There was not the slightest movement from her. The eyes that had always gleamed scarlet were empty, and the foxlike smile in her eyes would never be seen again.
Airaits’s heart had long since stopped……
She had simply died like that.
There had been no hidden trump card, no reversal.
There was nothing hollow about it.
Was that not what death was? Had he not experienced it countless times, even before he fell into this world?
There was no such thing as a special death.
What was special was never death, but always the person. That was not something to be confused.
Besides, was Airaits not a villain?
A woman who prioritized her own profit above all else and spoke of others’ deaths without the slightest concern.
So even if she died so emptily here, it should not have been strange.
…And yet there was something strange.
—You… clearly asserted it, did you not?
When Purnell’s voice, quiet until now, rang out, Hio too became aware of that strangeness.
—That all possessors have hollow souls.
“…I did.”
Possessors all had hollow souls.
That was a fact beyond doubt. He had even confirmed it through Sylvia.
The souls of all possessors except Hio himself could never be found.
—Then why does that exist?
Then what, exactly, was that presence he could feel?
「Trait—‘Ghost Eyes’ activates.」
What existed above Airaits’s head, curled tightly in on itself and buried in the confusion of memories, was unmistakably a soul.
Airaits’s soul, beyond any doubt.
—Was she not a possessor?
“She was.”
Rank 3. Airaits.
Her exact nickname was I like you.
The other users had roughly lumped it together and called her Airaits.
There was no possibility that she, a famous ranker in Bentaial, was not a possessor. Nor did it seem likely that she had impersonated one.
Then… what had happened?
As Hio approached the soul curled up with all its strength, he concentrated even more spiritual power into Ghost Eyes.
Then the things that composed the soul slowly began to come into view. Divided into extremely fine pieces and smoothly connected, they were memories engraved into the soul.
What he found there was the image of a young girl sobbing sorrowfully.
* * *
I had no father.
Since I had been born into this world one way or another, biologically, he must have existed somewhere, but since he stopped appearing around the time I turned six, would it not be fine to regard him as having never existed in the first place?
Well, it was hard to call someone who got drunk, smashed things, hit people, and spat curses a father anyway.
In any case, after I turned six, I lived alone with Mom.
It was around that time that people began to look at me strangely.
“Antisocial personality disorder… She is showing tendencies commonly referred to as sociopathy.”
A diagnosis that must have been a bolt from the blue for Mom.
As if proving it true, I went around causing all kinds of problems. No, to be precise, they were commotions that erupted because other children were horrified by my actions.
I could not understand those children either, but I was always the one at fault.
It happened because I could not empathize. The problem was that my behavior was far too different from that of children my age.
Self-defensive behavior that cared only for myself.
Whether that was innate, or an acquired factor stemming from my environment, I could not know.
“You… you can’t do that. You have to know how to love other people.”
That was what Mom said as she held me on the evening of the day I stepped on the back of a peer’s hand because the child was crying too noisily.
“What is love?”
“It is the heart that cherishes and cares for someone other than yourself.”
That was the first day I took interest in this thing called love.
I did not understand it at all, but in any case, I succeeded in learning.
After countless trials and errors and several moves, I became able to at least act as if I felt expressions and emotions similar to others.
The days when I caused problems decreased, and we no longer had to move.
Perhaps that was the effect of steady learning.
Perhaps I was slowly getting better.
Because the door of my heart, once firmly closed, seemed to be opening little by little, and I felt as though I might come to understand, even if only slightly, the emotions of others.
But.
“…It was an accident.”
When even my one remaining family member finally left me.
“I did drink a little, but I wasn’t drunk… No, with the rain coming down like that, it’s the fault of the person who suddenly jumped out!”
On that day when Mom never came home again.
The heart that had been opening little by little shut itself again as if none of it had ever happened. Far more firmly than before.
Mom’s funeral was on my birthday.
Of course, no one knew that.
“Tsk, tsk… Look at her, not shedding a single tear when her own mother died.”
“It gives me chills……”
“That’s what she is, right? A psychopath?”
“Her mother suffered so much because of that child……”
Even at such whispers, no particular thought came to mind.
Because none of what they said was wrong.
Because tears truly did not come, just as they said, I was a chilling child.
I had heard such words quite often, so it did not particularly matter.
Only.
—You have to know how to care for and love other people.
I finally understood with certainty.
‘…What is love, then?’
That no one loved me.
If it was as I had learned, family was supposed to cherish and love one another, but this was far too different from that.
Dad left when I was six, and Mom too, in the end, left my side.
I had not been loved by anyone, and I had not loved anyone.
So perhaps it was only natural that I shut myself inside the house.
Even those with whom I had maintained friendships on the surface quickly drifted away once they learned my true nature.
As expected, there was no one who loved me.
No, in truth, I did not even really know what that was.
Without interacting with anyone.
Without receiving anyone’s attention, even shut inside my room, I was still curious.
How did one love, and how did one receive love?
What did it feel like?
Because I did not know, because I had never experienced it, my lack of it only grew, until before I knew it, love had become something like the goal of my life.
What was love?
When I walked down the street, everything I heard was a song filled with love.
Songs longing for love, resenting love, yearning for love.
When I sat by the window and looked outside, what I saw were people whispering love.
Families and lovers who spent their lives together under the name of love.
When I turned on the TV, what came out was always a story about love.
Stories of crying because of love, being happy because of love, taking joy because of love.
Men and women who came out in search of love.
Stories experienced while loving. People who found them entertaining.
The whole world sang of love, spoke of love, and shared love.
All while leaving only me out.
So I had no choice but to be curious and wander in search of it.
* * *
I found a clue in a completely unexpected place.
Bentaial Online.
The sole routine in my purposeless life.
At least here, I was not a creepy child.
I was an entirely different person, and I had chosen my name out of the wish that I might be.
And so I fell into the world of Bentaial.
To others, it may have been nothing more than a game, but to me, it was another life.
When I left the game, all I saw was an empty, dark space, and so the light of my monitor never went out.
So reaching the ranker list was a perfectly natural result. It was my pride.
A splendid achievement I had accomplished in another life.
But no matter how I immersed myself in Bentaial day and night, I could climb no higher.
Rank 3. That was my limit.
The gap between me and the two above me did not narrow; instead, it only widened as the days went by, and that puzzled me.
I was more serious than anyone else, so how did they build higher fame and greater achievements than I did?
It began with that curiosity, and at the end of it, I was able to meet him. The overwhelming number one of the world I had immersed myself in—the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
I wanted to surpass him. I wanted to prove that our very attitudes toward the game were different.
That was why I followed him around and imitated him.
I analyzed him, searched for his weaknesses, and tried to surpass him.
That was my method.
And after only a few days of tailing him, I could tell.
The Supreme Heavenly Demon was even worse than I was.
“…What is this? Why is he going this far?”
There were too many scenes I could not understand to count.
To save a single NPC, he went all the way into the heart of the Grandina Mountain Range, and to fulfill the request of an NPC that did not seem to offer any particular reward, he wandered here and there for days and nights.
It was a method that was far too opposite from mine.
I avoided things with small rewards, and I also avoided things with low chances of success. Moving with the highest efficiency was Airaits’s method, was it not?
“He’s definitely not in his right mind… Is there some other secret?”
Since it made no sense for the height of inefficiency to be the secret behind the overwhelming number one, I decided to keep following him, if only to find out that secret.
And so days became months, and by the time those months had piled up into years, I had no choice but to admit it.
The Supreme Heavenly Demon was as immersed in this world as I was—perhaps even more so.
I remembered something I had heard somewhere.
Was it that people are drawn to those who are their opposites?
I wanted to have it.
The Supreme Heavenly Demon’s thoughts. I was curious about that way of thinking.
Wondering what on earth he was thinking when he acted that way—trying to guess at such things—somehow filled me with excitement.
“Is this… love?”
Perhaps it was.
Wanting to have him, being curious about what he was thinking, wanting to surpass him.
I was certain I had heard that such things were love.
So this had to be love.
From then on, under the name of love, I chased after him constantly. I moved to save the world by following him, imitated his actions, and built up goodwill with others.
After all, didn’t they say people in love grow alike?
Thinking that saying seemed exactly right had made me happy.
When I heard that we had ultimately failed to prevent the world’s destruction and that the server would be shut down, what I regretted more than anything was that I would no longer be able to see the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
The truth was, once the server shut down, I had planned to simply die. No matter how I thought about it, I had no reason left to live.
But as if to mock me, I was dragged into the world of the game. It was not a dream, either. It was unmistakably reality.
I searched for a way to return to the original world, but there was no such thing.
…If anything, that was better.
Another life had merely been merged into a single life.
Then my goal was now one thing: to find the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
Since that was all, I chose the most efficient and fastest way to raise my fame. Using criminal organizations to build notoriety.
If I did that, my strength would wane the further I went and the restrictions would be considerable, but what did it matter?
I wanted to meet the Supreme Heavenly Demon in person as soon as possible and tell him I loved him.
My only goal in life was to love and be loved. That was all.
But… for some reason, even after two years had passed, there was still no sign of the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
I sought out every person I suspected might be him, but none of them were the Supreme Heavenly Demon. Every last one was nothing but chaff.
Because I loved him, I could tell.
That overwhelming power. That attitude of looking at the world more seriously than anyone else.
Not one of them possessed anything of the sort.
And so time passed, and it was by pure coincidence that I discovered the Supreme Heavenly Demon.
The city of Sauer.
There, after hearing that an unfinished demonic being would be released, I was looking through another’s eyes to obtain information.
—You’ll have to correct yourself, Sword Saint. I am not a clown.
When I discovered a man standing against the Sword Saint, one of the strongest on the continent, for the sake of a single girl.
—I am a great mage.
When I saw the blue sun blazing above his head.
—The last mage left in this world.
I trembled. I was certain.
In one corner of a dark room, I smiled and unknowingly murmured.
“I found you. Supreme Heavenly Demon.”