Chapter 162: Sin and Punishment (2)

Chapter 162: Sin and Punishment (2)

<Dantalian of the 'Ninth Corpses'

Danger Rating : S

Size : ?

Found in: 'Serpent's Womb', deep within the Doomed Gate

-Known as the Ninth Corpse.

One of the Ten Calamities, natural enemies of mankind, inscrutable and unkillable.

"Because of the disease, boils will be rampant."

– The Book of the Ten Commandments 10: 1.

Puddeudeudeuk!

The human's mask shattered, and his demonic form burst forth from within.

Vikir watched it all with a calm demeanor.

'...At last.'

Dantalian. The Nine corpse.

Old, young, child, woman, man, handsome, beautiful, ugly, pretty, fat, thin, black, white, yellow, noble, slave, rich, beggar, hero, villain...

With 36 heads, faces, and identities, this demon has a humanoid body and a grim-looking suit.

Each of its thirty-six faces had a purple tongue that could be extended to any length, and the tip was sharper than a blade.

Vikir was able to recall the past from the appearance of this demon, which was as grotesque as ever, with only the shape of the faces differing.

'Dantalian, the 'Thousand Faces'. The one who killed the most of my companions.'

Before his regression, Vikir had lost countless allies to the demon before him.

Vikir had lost countless companions to this demon before his eyes, and so had he, for Dantalian has the ability to steal the faces of those he kills.

Mother, father, older brother, younger brother, older sister, older sister, grandmother, grandfather, best friend, respected teacher, beloved student, childhood friend, fiancé, fiancee, first love, unrequited love, etc... ... In addition, any comrades who hesitated or hesitated even for a moment against Dantalian, who had all kinds of faces, would inevitably be pierced to death by his blade-like tongue.

And it was Dantalian who, with the face he had stolen, killed his comrades, his family, and his lovers, over and over again.

Therefore, as Vikir, who had the experience of losing countless comrades to the bastard, he had no choice but to evaluate Dantalian this way.

'A demon that must be killed early on.'

Regardless of his strength, he will cause the most damage to the Human Alliance in the future, so it would be beneficial to eliminate him early on.

Right then.

Tsutsutsutsutsuts...

The smell of rotting flesh washed over them, along with a disgusting aura.

Vikir quickly stepped back.

Dantalian was a demon with countless faces, but he was also known as a plague-bringer.

It was perfect for a fake cleric who could create plagues and reap them, all the while putting on a gentle face.

But in this case, it was a good thing.

For now, Vikir had Dolores behind him.

...Pow!

Dolores emitted a divine light that blocked the Dantalian plague fog.

She opened her mouth with a stern expression.

"...Why?"

[Ho-ho-ho-ho- why? What reason?]

Dolores' throat tightened at Dantalian's question.

"Why would you come to the human realm and do this, why would you do this in the orphanage...!"

Then the thirty-six faces staring down at Dolores smirked in unison.

He doesn't say anything about the 'gate' that the ten demons are trying to open, other than his original lament, of course.

He did, however, readily reveal the reason he was keeping another chick in the orphanage.

[It's a kind of "farm" operation].

"What?"

Dolores asked, and Dantalian replied, still with a frown.

[See this?]

He held up a golden necklace in his hand.

Dolores could only frown as she realized that it was something that some of the children in the orphanage wore around their necks.

Then, Dantalian said.

[This means 'meat for breeding'].

"...!"

Dantalian's next words stiffened Dolores' expression even more.

[We demons live off of humans, just like you humans live off of beasts, so I've had a change of heart. Rather than hunt them down every time, I'd rather make them into farms and raise them like livestock, like dogs and pigs.]

"What, what?"

["Let them breed in here, increase their population, take care of their meat, and then eat them when they reach a certain age. How efficient is that? It's a win-win situation.]

"Crazy! How is that a win-win!"

[It's a win-win. The orphans in the orphanage here were destined to never be born, die at birth, or end up on the streets at a young age, but thanks to me, they're here, and they're safe and sound until they're in their late teens. Of course, after a certain age, their meat becomes tough and tasteless, so we have to eat them before then. Ho-ho-ho-ho!"]

"Ughhhh..., how dare you do this behind the name of a religious hymn! You will be punished, you demon!"

Dolores shouted in fury.

But when Dantalian heard the word 'punishment', his seventy-two eyes widened in confusion. Fôllôw new stories at novelhall.com

[Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho- Heavenly punishment? I'm not guilty of anything!]

A passing dog would laugh at the idea that a demon who lured and ate poor children was innocent.

His faces are skinned from the faces of real people, and he can recreate their expressions and voices.

How is it that this creature in front of him can't even be moved like a grain of rice?

[You inhuman creature, I am more human than you!]

"...."

Vikir ignored Dantalian's words and struck again.

...Pfft!

Blood splashed in a sickening black-green color, and Dantalian staggered backward.

The spears of his tongue, his primary weapon, were much reduced in number.

New faces were regenerating, but Vikir was much faster at destroying them.

'I had enough of them before the regression. I'm not going to get the same amount of them twice.'

The Face of a Thousand Faces The faces and voices of Dantalian mimics are nothing but mimics.

In his previous life, Vikir realized this only after losing many of his comrades.

So there was no reason or room for guilt at this moment.

"Keep your neck open."

Vikir stepped forward, brushing the foul blood from his sword.

Then a sickening grin crossed the rest of the Dantalian's faces.

[Ho ho ho! So this is a fellow who doesn't care much for others, then how about this?]

Suddenly, all of Dantalian's faces began to change in unison.

They belonged to boys and girls under the age of thirteen.

They were the faces of the children of the orphanage.

Vikir replied in a dry voice.

"I've smashed the faces of many children before, do you think I'll do it again now?"

[Ho ho ho! Of course it won't work on you].

"...!"

The words stopped Vikir in his tracks for a moment.

That's right.

Dantalian wasn't messing with Vikir's mind right now, but with the mind of Dolores behind him.

St. Dolores had been volunteering here for years now, caring for many children.

Some of them she'd bonded with, others she'd adopted to good homes and never saw again.

... But it wasn't.

None of those kids went to a good place.

Because they were all 'here'.

[Awww! Sis! I missed you!]

[Sis! Help me! It hurts so much!]

[Sis! Sis! Sis! Sis! Get me out of here!]

[It hurts, sis! Hmph – ugh – I was wrong!]

Countless faces bloomed over Dantalian's body like a bouquet of flowers in a vase.

The children from the orphanage that Dolores had met every weekend since she was a freshman in her first year at the academy until she became the student council president in her third year.

As they groaned and cried out in unison, Vikir was silent for a moment.

She was sure she wouldn't fall for this kind of emotional manipulation.

But Dolores, saint of the Rune Order, paragon of all, lover of all the less fortunate?

Vikir shifted, feeling a vague sense of unease.

And jerked his head back.

"...!"

Behind the mask, Vikir's eyes widened slightly.

Then a dry voice scratched his throat.

"...indeed. A hero is a hero."

At the same time.

...Pow!

An intense flash of white light pierced him in the eye.

[kkeuheug!?]

Dantalian stumbled backwards as the heat scorched his body.

Cheeeeeeeek... ...

Burning black smoke rose from the body exposed to the bright light.

Then, Dolores's voice drifted out of the white haze of light.

Extremely calm, yet bubbling with anger hotter than lava.

"...You touched something you shouldn't have."

That was the voice.

And the moment he heard her 'awakened' voice.

...Creepy!

Vikir felt a weak shudder.

The battlefield before the regression, when all was lost.

The last spark of hope, the ray of light that always managed to pull off a miraculous reversal, even in the midst of despair when the odds seemed tilted against them.

For a brief moment, I felt a nostalgic sense of the second coming of Dolores, the Saint of Steel, humanity's last hero.