Chapter 115 - Black Wedding (1)

1

"O God.

Please help me."

A girl offered a prayer, and it was answered.

And so.

"O God.

Please help us."

A boy who had stayed by that girl's side as her butler and childhood friend offered a prayer, and that, too, was answered.

2

"First, we must change the layout of the venue," Raviel said in a near whisper. "Now that we know where the apostles will appear, we can concentrate the Special Task Force and the fighters there."

Preparing for the wedding had taught me that the bride and groom were granted tremendous power. We could seat the guests we invited wherever we pleased.

If we wanted, we could even put nobles who were sworn enemies at the same table. Of course, our reputations would suffer and we'd take some abuse, but what did that matter? Crushing the apostles from another world came first.

'This would have been so much easier if I could have stolen their blessings, too...'

Unfortunately, my skill, [I Want to Be Like You Too], couldn't copy the blessings Golden Silk Blossom used.

"Zombie, I told you. The Tower is absolutely ruthless about the strangest things."

My attendant spirit looked positively excited, apparently delighted that I couldn't get a free ride.

"You've got several [blessings] yourself, don't you? You did when you fought Hungry Ghost, and you do now. Protection of the God of Beauty, Protection of the Serpent God, whatever."

'Yes, yes. You're saying those are already treated as separate from my skills.'

"Right. To be precise, they're 'buff effects a constellation casts using its own skills.' That's how the mechanics work, so what can you do? If you don't like it, go storm the constellation that gave the buff and get yourself fucking killed by it."

'I get it. Honestly.'

I grumbled. All this talk of mechanics made it sound like a computer game, but what lay before us was reality, not a game.

The Inquisitor confronted us with that reality in its rawest form.

"If there's an apostle skilled at mental attacks, we must reduce the number of guests considerably! Especially if the apostle's blessing recreates [memories of when one was happy]!"

A candle crackled, illuminating the Inquisitor's face.

It was the middle of the night.

The three of us had gathered in the dressing room to put our heads together. A plan of the wedding venue and the guest list lay on the table. Raviel's dressing room had become our private, secret strategy room.

"The deadliest poison in the world never hurts people. It makes them happy! Very few people can escape the poison of happiness spread by [The Immortal Evangelist of Happiness]!"

"... Here is the problem."

Raviel tapped the guest list with a long finger.

"The fewer guests we have, the harder it becomes to deal with [The Warhorse of the Eternal Plains]. This apostle summons a force numbering no less than ten thousand. Increase our numbers and we fall to the mental attack; reduce them and we're crushed by sheer numbers."

"Hmm, a valid point. This really isn't easy..."

The two sank into thought. The candle burned down.

"Leave that to me," I said.

Both turned to look at me.

"Do you have a good idea, Death King?"

"Yes."

I nodded, then explained my plan. As I continued, Raviel's and the Inquisitor's expressions gradually changed.

"... I see."

Raviel looked impressed.

"My wife truly has extensive connections. If we build our strategy around your plan, there should be no problems."

Just as my respect for her was unfeigned, Raviel had no reservations about praising me. It was a little embarrassing.

"But there's one condition."

"What is it?"

"Please allow me to wear black as well, Raviel."

"..."

Raviel pressed her lips together.

In the empire, only the person who would become head of the household could wear black on their wedding day. As the ducal consort, it wasn't a color I was entitled to wear. Even so, I had to wear black.

"It's not that I've suddenly decided I want to rule the ducal household. It's just..."

"No, you needn't explain yourself. I've known since our previous life that you aren't someone who covets power."

Raviel shook her head.

"I was merely concerned about the empire's customs and traditions. And I cannot disregard my wife's wishes for the sake of such things. Hmm. I will prepare your clothing."

"Thank you."

The three of us met one another's eyes and nodded. It was mere coincidence, but at that very moment, the candle flame on the table flickered.

Our preparations were complete.

3

Evening approached.

The empire's most prominent nobles began arriving at the venue.

Only a little over a month had passed between the announcement and the preparations. The wedding had been arranged at a truly breakneck pace, but no noble had the gall to decline an invitation to an Ivansia wedding. However much they bad-mouthed Raviel in private, they had to smile sweetly in public.

Power was a bully.

"... The layout of the venue is rather peculiar."

Even those nobles tilted their heads once they entered the venue. Holding the ceremony outdoors rather than at a temple was understandable. A union between a noble and a commoner would have difficulty receiving a blessing.

But.

"Why have you gathered all the fighters in one place?"

The chamberlain—my adoptive father—had entered the groom's dressing room.

"Moreover, this arrangement... Forgive me, but it looks as though you're expecting a battle. Those who would be useful in a fight are concentrated at the front, while the ordinary nobles are at the rear."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

Surrounded by attendants dressing me, I replied with perfect innocence. The elderly gentleman chuckled.

"It appears you've cleared the troublesome riffraff out of the way and put only your useful pieces up front. Would it be rude to phrase it that way?"

"I'm sure my husband has her reasons."

"And you, her wife, have a sword at your waist."

"Yes, I enjoy practicing martial arts and training. Surely the person who will become the moon of Ivansia mustn't appear weak? Besides, a gang might show up to cause trouble at the wedding. We must be prepared for every eventuality."

"I see. Preparing for a possible unforeseen incident..."

The elderly gentleman smiled wryly.

"Very well. I shall also give the colleagues who accompanied me a hint to prepare for any [possible] incident. Goodness gracious. To think this was why Her Grace the Duchess of Ivansia chose me, of all people, as your adoptive father..."

He bowed to me and left the dressing room. No doubt he intended to tell his Special Task Force subordinates to prepare for battle.

Even this response had been deliberately elicited.

'The more people who can stay calm when something unexpected happens, the better.'

Raviel was already mobilizing people behind the scenes.

[Subversives dissatisfied with the marriage are planning a terrorist attack.]

That rumor spread quietly through personal connections. Not everyone would believe it, but nobles were creatures of psychology. Simply planting a seed of wariness in their minds was sure to have an effect.

"Aaaah!"

The effect came sooner than expected.

'They're here.'

I shook off the attendants and hurried out of the dressing room.

At the same time, a voice rang out that, in this world, probably only the Inquisitor and I could hear.

[The apostle of 'The Ox That Harvests Ruins' manifests.]

[The apostle of 'The Warhorse of the Eternal Plains' manifests.]

[The apostles of 'The Immortal Evangelist of Happiness' manifest.]

The same sunset I had seen yesterday unfolded. The sky shattered, and the three sets of apostles appeared through cracks like those in a broken window.

"Good heavens..."

"O God, what in the world..."

The guests rose awkwardly. Their horror was unchanged. But a closer look revealed different stances. The fighters instinctively gathered together and gripped their sword hilts, while the nobles who couldn't fight glanced around, ready to flee at any moment.

And.

"Inquisitor!"

Above all, my actions were different.

"Yes, Death King!"

The Inquisitor, who had been waiting outside the dressing room, answered.

"I'll get on your back now!"

"Okay!"

"Divine Art, Divine Conveyance!"

It was the Divine Art the Inquisitor had used when the Demon King of Autumn Rain and the Goddess of Protection set us a test and divided us—the moment I first realized the Inquisitor was a psychopath.

Its effect was teleportation.

"Huh?"

Our destination was the crimson sky.

"Wh-what?!"

Right behind the hammer apostle, the baron's daughter, Lady Golden Silk Blossom.

Golden Silk Blossom turned toward me in alarm.

CLANG!

My swinging holy sword collided with the hammer she raised. Gravity bore down on me high in the sky. Feeling my body plunge straight down, I shouted,

"One more time!"

"Ahaha! Yes! Divine Art, Divine Conveyance!"

The Inquisitor cried out gleefully. The next instant, we appeared behind Golden Silk Blossom again. I brought my sword down with all my strength on her exposed back.

"Ugh!"

Golden Silk Blossom barely blocked my attack again. But two unexpected ambushes had a devastating effect: she lost her balance.

WHOOOOSH!

She had intended to descend steadily from above. Instead, with her posture broken, she simply began to plummet.

"I don't know what cheap tricks you're using! But they're useless!"

Golden Silk Blossom shouted. The wind pressure of her fall whipped her golden hair into disarray.

"My body is unyielding! Nothing can hurt me now! I'm invincible! The Ox That Harvests Ruins gave me a body that cannot be injured!"

"You offered your soul to an apostle because you didn't want to be hurt?!"

"What business is it of yours?!"

Golden Silk Blossom shrieked.

"Everyone only sees Raviel Ivansia! That insufferable bitch! All she has going for her is the family she was born into, yet she acts like she understands every sorrow in the world! I'll kill her! I'll take every last thing she has!"

A shabby, sordid desire.

But I, at least, did not mock Golden Silk Blossom. No matter how much powder and makeup we applied, what ultimately drove human beings was naked desire. I knew because I had been that way myself.

Still.

"You should have known that the world is full of people worse off than you, baron's daughter!"

Because of that, there were words I could shout.

I tightened my grip on the holy sword's hilt.

"People know the pain they've suffered! So when someone else screams in agony, they can imagine how lonely it is and feel compassion! Your origins don't matter! Everyone who screams, drowning in pain, is another person to me!"

"Ha, what a load of bullshit! Who lives like that?!"

Golden Silk Blossom sneered. The wind buffeted us. Falling through the air, she looked up at me.

"You can't even hurt me anyway! My body is unyielding, indestructible, and immortal!"

Yes.

If mere words could change her, she would have changed already. Words were powerless. Force was necessary to help those who screamed. That was why the doctrine of the shadows held a sword.

"Sparkle!"

[Sparkle answers the Hero's call.]

"Change from the sword of Idol to the sword of Compassion!"

The moment I gave the command:

[Yes, Hero.]

Black turbid energy spilled from the holy sword.

GLUG!

The once-sacred blade was instantly tainted black, like filthy water.

My opponent's ability was powerful, yet simple.

["She is cloaked in one of Mutia's blessings, Uninjurable Body!"]

["Quite literally, she cannot be injured."]

But I had a way to counter it.

["My ability is pain."]

The sword I had obtained in my master's world.

["Those I cut feel pain."]

["Yet no wound ever remains on their bodies, nor do they die."]

["Pain without injury is my ability."]

The Goddess of Protection's second ability.

Compassion.

"Sylvia Evanail!"

Calling out Golden Silk Blossom's real name, I brought my sword down.

"Now I'll kill you!"

"Ha."

Golden Silk Blossom scoffed. She didn't even seem to intend to dodge my strike. Her expression dared me to stab her. Faith in the blessing she had received—absolute confidence—sustained her.

"Go on, kill me if you—"

Golden Silk Blossom never finished speaking.

Instead, a scream tore free.

"Aaaaaah!"

My sword tip pierced her heart precisely. No wound appeared. The blade merely passed through her chest as though it were transparent. No blood spilled.

"Ghh, ha, hhk?"

But there was pain.

"Aaaah! Aaaaaah!"

A blood-red scream tore across the red sky. Plunging like a meteor, Golden Silk Blossom howled in agony. Her voice pierced the wind and spread throughout the sunset.

"Inquisitor!"

We were falling from the sky. The ground rushed closer. I stabbed Golden Silk Blossom's heart once more.

Just before we crashed into the ground:

"Now!"

"Divine Art, Divine Conveyance!"

The Inquisitor cried out as if he'd been waiting for it. He repeated the Divine Art several times.

FLASH!

FLASH!

With each teleportation, our falling speed decreased. At the last moment, we landed lightly on the ground. We had escaped the fall.

But Golden Silk Blossom had not.

BOOOOM!

The earth shook as though a small meteor had struck. Dust billowed up. Unlike the previous run, Golden Silk Blossom's descent had become a crash. No one was caught in her hammer blows and injured this time.

"Hhk, heek, khh... Ah, uh...?"

There was only an apostle convulsing from the pain of a pierced heart.

I readjusted my grip on the sword.

"Does it hurt?"

Then I walked slowly toward Golden Silk Blossom.

"Of course it does."

Recognizing my footsteps, she flinched. With a frightened whimper, she staggered to her feet.

"H-help me!"

Golden Silk Blossom didn't listen to me. She merely called urgently for salvation—to the evening sky, to another constellation's servant.

"We have an agreement! A c-contract! Mutia won't stand for you leaving me like this! Your constellation won't be pleased either!"

"Hmm."

The general astride the pegasus spoke.

"How strange. A constellation... no. A fragment of a constellation? I cannot begin to imagine how you acquired such an artifact."

The general slowly raised his banner.

"But you remain an obstacle that must be vanquished. Warriors who follow the Warhorse, awaken."

And the summoning unfolded.

"Graaaaaah!"

Hundreds, thousands of ghosts appeared. Bathed in the red sunset, they looked like murderers drenched in blood. Horrified screams erupted throughout the wedding venue.

My opponent's ability was absolute.

["Battlefield of the Stellar Domain is an area-wide ability. It affects the entire vicinity."]

["Its effect is tremendous: [It fixes summoned beings' abilities at their peak during life]!"]

["Every one of those ghosts is the elite of the elite. They are the souls of warriors who followed Mahos!"]

But I had a way to counter it.

"Gongja."

Raviel had approached from behind. When I turned, she was holding something in both hands.

"Put this on."

It was a black cloak.

Raviel wrapped it around me as though she were putting on a scarf. The white tuxedo I wore disappeared beneath the black cloak. The crest of House Ivansia was embroidered in silver thread against its black fabric.

Meanwhile, the ghost legion drew ever closer.

"Y-Your Grace!"

The guests who were fighters looked at Raviel in alarm. Unlike the previous run, they had properly formed ranks and arranged a defensive formation, but the ghosts' march was terrifying in itself.

"What should we do? Please give us orders..."

"Shut up."

"..."

Raviel answered curtly and finished fitting the cloak around me. Her manner suggested that a mere ghost legion was nothing to worry about.

"Hmm."

She inspected my attire and nodded.

"The cloak suits you, too."

"Thank you for granting my request. Still, this is one thing I have to uphold."

"I understand. Finish this however you wish."

"Yes."

I smiled and turned away.

An enormous number of ghosts were charging toward us.

["Battlefield of the Stellar Domain is an area-wide ability."]

["It fixes summoned beings' abilities at their peak during life."]

["It affects the entire vicinity."]

I slowly raised the black sword.

Then I spoke.

"Rebirth of a Hundred Ghosts."

A shadow spread from beneath my feet like dusk.

[Activating skill.]

Evening.

The sky was red with sunset, and the horizon was pitch-black beneath the shadows.

"What...!"

The general, who had been charging boldly on his pegasus, faltered. The ghosts following him stopped as well. Their charge, so confident of slaughtering us with ease, had been blocked by the shadows burying the earth.

"My lord."

One of the shadows spoke.

"Did you summon me?"

Hungry Ghost knelt on one knee.

Her appearance was different from usual. She did not have Estelle's delicate form. Dark-red muddy water covered her entire body and poured endlessly from it. She looked exactly like the [Demon King of Autumn Rain] I had fought before.

["It fixes summoned beings' abilities at their peak during life."]

Hungry Ghost was not alone.

Behind her kneeling figure stood martial artists in ink-black robes. Each had a different face, different origins, and a different life, yet they were united in black.

"We pay our respects to the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Heaven!"

Those who bore witness to my life.

Clad in my black cloak, I spoke.

"Please fight for me."

The followers of the doctrine of the shadows all cupped a fist in salute.

"We obey the Young Cult Leader's command!"

The time had come to begin the war.