I had always been an observer.
Just a cleaner who watched, never doing anything particularly noteworthy.
I was born in the infirmary of the “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute.”
My parents were a slave couple of “Demons,” born in 12 BC—meaning I was born twelve years before Year Zero of the New Calendar, when “Foreigners” were summoned, in Fanian.
Children born within the Research Institute were generally designated as “low-ranking staff” and kept underground until death. That seemed to be the established law in the Fanian domain.
The reason for my uncertainty, even in death, is simple.
Ultimately, I never left the “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute.”
So, honestly, I don’t have much of a sense of it.
Stories of “Demons” who were trafficked and subjected to terrible fates at the Fanian Research Institute.
Stories of the town being saved once when the legendary saint and the Shiso visited in Year Zero of the New Calendar.
Stories of the former lord, Romis Neisha, returning and reclaiming his jurisdiction in Year 3 of the New Calendar.
Stories of true peace returning to Fanian thanks to the Shiso’s second visit in Year 4 of the New Calendar.
Apparently, a lot happened.
However, every year, I just continued my duties as a low-ranking staff member in the dim, vast underground space, so it didn’t really concern me.
Incidentally, my job was to wipe away the blood splattered from experiments in the laboratories before it dried. Cleaning, every single day. Just cleaning.
Day after day of cleaning, occasionally taking care of the monsters within the Research Institute.
The basement of the Research Institute was made of special stone, and the scent of blood always filled the air.
It was chronically damp and never very hygienic.
However, thanks to the rare “Lord Flame God’s Sacred Stone” lighting of that era, it wasn’t dark even underground. The maze-like layout, designed to confuse intruders, might also be somewhat unusual. Reaching your destination on your first visit would be impossible without staff guidance or some sort of magical power.
—Screams always echoed.
People overcome by despair and pain shrieked like beasts and their cries never ceased.
At times, the cries of non-human monsters could be heard, their volume strong enough to drown out the human screams. A mixture of various sounds wore down the sanity of those working here without question… but for me, who grew up with these as lullabies, they were merely the sounds of life.
—These sounds were proof of a comforting daily life.
In my everyday life, my greatest solace was feeding the monsters being bred in the underground cells.
I had always liked raising things, but when mutated former friends and family members began to appear among them, I became engrossed in taking care of them.
And my work was well-received by the researchers who were my superiors. Thanks to that, I was granted permission to play with my friends and family during my free time.
It’s not bragging, but I had the trust of those in higher positions.
Among them, I was particularly close with Director Hermina Neisha of the “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute.”
When she was still in human form, Hermina would praise me every time she examined my body.
“—You are truly, rare. None of the “Demon” characteristics of your parents have appeared in your body at all. Not even the slightest precursor. …Surely, you will be able to work here until the very end. Please live a long life.”
Although I was born between “Demons,” I was completely “human.”
Apparently, I had no “aptitude” whatsoever. If measured numerically, it was around 0.15, which was the highest figure in the entire Research Institute. Hermina kept repeating, “Ah, truly lucky numbers…,” so I held that as a secret pride.
My life at the Research Institute was truly fulfilling.
Work and rewards suited to me.
My superiors often praised me, and I had things to look forward to during breaks.
I was “happy.”
Looking back now, those days were also filled with “peace.”
—Therefore, I had no need for “magic.”
Even after reading my life story at such length, there is only one thing left to teach.
Only the memories spent with the boy who called himself the “Evil Dragon of Hellish Light.”
The boy Fafnir was close to my generation and was born into a great aristocratic family of Fanian. His “aptitude” was 3.12, the lowest figure ever recorded, and he was an elite among elites who served as a “high-ranking staff member” at the Research Institute.
His real name was Neil, I believe? No, it was Thor? I think his name was something like Thor. Fafnir, the former “something-Thor-kun,” was personally the unluckiest person at the Research Institute.
He escaped from Fanian once, and was recaptured in Year 3 of the New Calendar.
The “Demon” Fafnir was mixed with truly special monsters.
Due to his rampage across various regions during his escape, he was assigned to a special cell in the lowest level of the Research Institute, called the “Sacred Body Storage Room,” after being recaptured.
And only staff members with high trust within the Research Institute could enter that place.
I was ordered not only to clean but also to feed and manage him.
Naturally, he and I found ourselves alone together often.
After I finished my daily cleaning, I would always end up at the “Sacred Body Storage Room.”
It was a strangely large room.
The stone paved walls and floor were embedded with many “Magic Stones”—not “Lord Flame God’s Sacred Stones”—which had become a specialty of Fanian. However, unlike the room of the “Thief of the Principles of Fire,” there was no symbolic statue. Instead, there was a large hollow in the center, filled with a pool of blood.
In that room, Fafnir was chained like a prisoner, lying on the ground against the wall.
His unruly golden long hair hung down, always hiding his face.
He wore only white rags meant for the sick, and his bare feet were full of chapped skin. Before being brought here, his ankle tendons had been severed, so he could not stand. Furthermore, a lock utilizing Fuziaze’s cutting-edge technology prevented natural healing and “Curse Techniques.”
I would talk to him in this state, but as a mere cleaner, I had no witty conversation.
So, I always talked about my work.
However, whenever I tried to conclude by saying, “It’s easy because it’s just cleaning,” he would always shout, “It’s not easy at all!” indignantly.
For some reason, his voice remains in my memory. It seems to linger in ears I wouldn’t have, still clinging…
“—It’s not just cleaning? You’re always called out at night, aren’t you…? You undergo human experiments too! Just because your body is less susceptible to “Demonic Poison,” they do whatever they want… All that treatment is a lie! Everything is an experiment!”
His mouth was eloquent precisely because his body could no longer move.
“It’s always experiment after experiment using human lives! —No, if they were truly conducting human experiments, that would be fine! But they…! Hermina’s ideals…! Only to further satisfy their own desires! Damn it all!!”
He was always enraged.
He seemed worried about my workload, but was it necessary to raise his voice so much?
Indeed, I was sometimes called for minor接待, or helped with emergency clinical trials.
However, it was only a side task and not particularly burdensome.
I would smile and shake my head, and he would get even more frustrated, hitting his head against the ground in his only functioning body part.
“There’s no religion or science here anymore…! None of it remains…! Damn it… damn it, damn it, shit…!!”
I wish he wouldn’t stain it with blood again after I had just cleaned it.
When I tried to stop him by saying that, he would look like he was about to cry and look down.
“……In the end, truly ‘unfortunate’ people don’t even have the right to know they are currently ‘unfortunate.’ Just by the ‘innate differences,’ life is decided from the start, and we can only die while being used… Everyone was used, used, used, constantly consumed, and then discarded… Like trash, everyone, everyone, everyone, died…”
He bit the stone floor in frustration.
Since his hands, which had their nails torn off, couldn’t move properly, he had no choice but to do so.
“Truly, children like you, who are so unlucky, should have been saved by God… The power of religion should have been given to you… Yet, every single one of you! Every single one of youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!”
He continued to groan from the depths of his throat, spitting blood from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
It was a resentment worthy of being called a curse.
“Romis! You disgusting nobles wallowing in lust who sided with Romis! You beasts who exploit the weak and enrich yourselves with sacred religion! I will definitely kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll burn you to ashes with the flames of divine punishment and cast you down to the depths of hell! Inflicting all the pain and suffering of this world, every single one of them! All of them!!”
These were familiar phrases here.
To me, they were as good as lullabies—
“—And I will surely save you! I’ll take you out of this hell! Everyone—no, I’ll save this ugly world and make everyone ‘happy’! I definitely will!!”
Fafnir raised his face from the ground and looked at me, saying “save.”
Always “save” at the end of our conversations.
I gave a wry smile, looking troubled.
Being told I would be taken away was bothersome.
I was satisfied with my life here.
I was not forced to mate with monsters.
No medication was administered alongside life-sustaining treatment.
No organ transplantation of monsters. No endurance tests for “Demonic Poison.”
Even though my form had completely changed, I was spending my days happily with my family and friends.
Frankly, compared to you now—
“Ah, Aaaah, aaah…. Wh-why…? Why? Why is the world not saved? Why is it so unsavable…?”
Seeing me deny him with a distorted smile, Fafnir was overcome by even deeper sadness.
—At that moment, I thought that you were the one who didn’t know they were “unfortunate.”
You were born into a great family of Fanian, and you were exceptionally intelligent and full of talent.
However, by sheer bad luck, you happened to be at the “First Demon Obstruction Research Institute” in Year Zero of the New Calendar when Shiso Kanami visited. Furthermore, you were ordered to guide Shiso Kanami, and though not sick, you received “treatment,” and in that light, you found “the great savior.”
By fostering the germ of a “new religion,” you incurred the wrath of the then-lord Romis Neisha, and despite being of aristocratic origin, you were subjected to… you were caught up in the processing of all “Level Up” experiencers.
There’s more.
Your greatest “misfortune” was likely surviving the special “Demonization” experiment, which was premised on death.
You became a rare species of “Demon.” Those mixed with ghosts are classified as superior “Demons,” and given the alias “Soul Demon.”
Thanks to that rarity, even when the survivors of the “Demonization” experiments challenged Shiso Kanami and his group to battle for revenge, you were the only one who survived.
You kept surviving.
Your life must have been a constant sifting.
If expressed in terms of “innate differences” later on, your status would undoubtedly have the entry “Bad Luck.”
At the same time, there must also be the “blessing” of “Good Luck” from having passed through so many narrow gates.
Chosen by fate, he crawls on the ground.
With the flames of anger lit in his eyes, he approaches the hollow in the center of the room.
“But please, don’t give up, Hermina-san… There is still salvation. Someday, that ‘Great Savior’ will come to save us. So, until then, please, never cast aside your heart…”
Then, Fafnir pulls out his only possession, the “Scripture of the Hakuhi Religion,” from his pocket with trembling hands.
Having been a renowned theologian and geographer in Fanian from a young age, he had requested that his books not be taken away before being confined to this cell.
When Romis Neisha, the former lord, heard this, perhaps devising some strategy, he allowed him to possess only one.
However, it was not Romis’s proud “Artofel Religion,” but the scripture of an ancient religion passed down in the Regia region.
As he turned the pages of the book, he murmured.
“Surely, this is a ‘trial’ given to us. God is giving us hardships to make us grow. —It is written in this scripture as well. Chapter 1, Verse 7: ‘Trials are a gift of hope and good fortune. They will surely leave proof that we have moved forward to tomorrow.’ In other words, ‘trials’ are growth. Growth to change the future of this rotten world into something better. Only, we still lack it. Compared to those gods, we clearly lack enough ‘trials.’ To save the world, we need more and more ‘trials’…!”
The more Fafnir spoke, the more the blood pool in the center pulsed.
The lump of flesh submerged within responded, ripples forming on the surface of the water.
That lump of flesh was, at this moment, the most “unfortunate” soul in this room.
It was Hermina Neisha from Year 3 of the New Calendar.
Her limbs were severed, her skin burned away, and she was rolled up while still alive.
Hermina had her research results exploited by Romis and was turned into a “Thief of the Law of Blood.”
Furthermore, she was made to continually experience the despair necessary for a “Thief of Principles” to live, just as predicted by her own experiments.
She was forced to endure the nightmare of life support as a mere device to summon “Blood Dolls.”
“Hermina-san, let’s overcome this ‘trial’ together…! Beyond it, there is surely light! The ‘Great Savior’ awaits us—!!”
Hermina, too, had endured the cruel torture and experiments Fafnir had inflicted.
She had been repaid for everything up to today, without omission.
—However, the researcher Hermina Neisha would never utter such curses.
She probably had no regrets.
From the beginning, she had been prepared to bear all the misfortune of others.
The reason she had been dissecting demons all along was because she was prepared to be dissected herself one day.
The reason she created the “Thief of the Principles of Light” was because she was prepared to become a “Thief of Principles” herself one day.
In other words, this situation itself was her wish and her “happiness.”
Therefore, Hermina’s “misfortune” was not caused by this tragic scene.
It was caused by the theologian Fafnir, who was offering comfort in the wrong place.
He crawled, approaching the hollow.
However, just as he was about to fall in, the length of his chain reached its limit.
He could not move forward any further.
Only the tips of his long hair reached the pool of accumulated blood.
But it did touch.
The moment his hair touched the surface, the accumulated blood began to boil, vaporized, and generated a red mist. Gradually, his golden hair turned black, and his emerald eyes became red.
As if drinking the blood, he inherited and imitated the characteristics of the woman named Hermina Neisha.
This was undoubtedly the “Power of Blood” that Fanian and Fuziaze had jointly researched.
It was also a “magic” that would later be called the鲜血魔法《Hermina Neisha》.
The genius who had passed through so many narrow gates skillfully replicated it and used it with ease.
However, this meant he was not utilizing his body mixed with ghost.
I assisted Hermina and know her personality.
That person would undoubtedly feel “unfortunate” if he chose a path not suited to him, rather than this living hell.
Of course, I warned him. But he stubbornly refused to listen, saying, “This is the only way to preserve Hermina’s spirit…,” and continued it every day.
He inherited and adapted his “Power of Blood” in this room, endlessly.
Every day, I bore witness to Hermina’s “misfortune.”
And during that time, Fafnir continued to undergo experiments by the researchers.
In Year 3 of the New Calendar, the Research Institute had moved beyond “Demon” research and entered the next stage.
It was an experiment for “Thief of Principlesification” without the use of Apostles. For this purpose, his body was manipulated almost daily. He seemed to have undergone modifications while receiving life support, as Romis Neisha expected him to become a “Thief of the Soul.”
Driven by despair, he had his fingernails and skin stripped repeatedly, and his flesh cut from his fingertips.
He also underwent monster limb transplants and endurance tests for “Demonic Poison.”
However, he felt no despair from these tortures.
“—Not yet. I still don’t have enough ‘trials.’ —It’s written in this scripture too. Chapter 1, Verse 7: ‘Trials are a gift of hope and good fortune. They will surely leave proof that we have moved forward to tomorrow.’…”
Rather, he was grateful for everything, considering it a “trial” bestowed by God.
He knew that to become like the Flame God and Light God he admired, he needed mental “weakness” and “madness,” so he voluntarily went to experiments.
However, he could never become a “Thief of Principles” that way.
Even if he pretended to fall into “madness” in search of mental “weakness”—
“Ah, I understand…! Everyone understands! I, who survived, have a duty to save everyone…! I don’t need to be told; everyone knows it! —It’s also written in this scripture. Chapter 5, Verse 11: ‘If you do not honor all souls, your own soul cannot find peace’…!”
To hear what he wanted to hear, to continuously listen to the ‘convenient voices’ he created himself… is too strong.
And after he stubbornly, Calculatingly, and diligently continued this for about a year.
Naturally, he did not become a “Thief of the Soul.”
Fafnir Helvishein’s heart did not crack.
No matter what hell he was in, he continued on his chosen path with his sanity intact—the experiments moved to the next stage.
“The heart transplant surgery of Hermina Neisha, the ‘Thief of the Law of Blood.’”
Surprisingly, it was Fafnir himself, who was researching the “Power of Blood” independently in the lowest stratum, who proposed it to the researchers.
And the experiment for “Thief of Principlesification,” which was too forceful, succeeded with ease.
—It was the birth of Fafnir Helvishein, the “Substitute Thief of the Law of Blood.”
A few months after the experiment’s success, Shiso Kanami arrived at the now hopelessly corrupted “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute.” This time, with Teeda, the “Thief of the Logic of Darkness,” as his partner, he fought Romis Neisha for the second time and won a narrow victory.
However, even with victory, it was too late.
At this time, all the researchers in Fanian were caught up in the battle and died.
The “Demons” who were used as experimental subjects also… only one of them maintained their sanity.
Only one person, chained in the lowest stratum of the “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute.”
Everyone else had become a victim of research, losing their bodies or their sanity.
When Shiso Kanami reached the “Sacred Body Storage Room,” the blood pool in the center of the room was gone.
There was not a single drop of blood to be seen anywhere in the room. It wasn’t because I had cleaned it, but because the “Substitute Thief of the Law of Blood” had absorbed all the blood in the entire building and converted it into his own power.
Seeing the pathetic sight, Kanami and Teeda rescued the sole survivor—
“………….”
From here on, you should know.
You should remember that when Fafnir was found in the innermost “Sacred Body Storage Room,” I was beside him.
“…. . . Yes, I remember.”
That day, in that place, at the end of that rescue drama, “I” was there.
However, there was only one survivor.
Among the experimental subjects, only one was sane.
When we escaped the “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute” after everything was over.
The four of us—myself, you, Teeda, and Fafnir—walked up the stone stairs.
As we continued to ascend in silence, and were just about to reach the surface, my feet stopped.
The moment I felt the real sunlight for the first time, my body froze with despair.
Noticing this, you said, “It’s okay,” and gently tried to take my hand.
I immediately brushed your hand away and said:
“—I cannot go. This place is my only world.”
“Eh?”
Before you could utter a sound of confusion, I sliced my own neck with a hidden dagger.
Ah, I remember it well.
I committed suicide before your eyes.
Those “happy” days were neatly concluded.
It was the only way.
If I had gone to the surface and the full extent of this “Thief of Principlesification” experiment became clear, it would be known that Fafnir was the only one sane here.
It would become clear that I found “happiness” by treating voiceless monsters as my family and friends. Moreover, I had already, long ago, been something—
I, who was by your side, could not stop it.
As I was dying, I saw Fafnir’s face for the last time.
With the same distorted face as always, Fafnir reached out his hand to me.
As my vision darkened and turned black, I shook my head.
With a smile that said I was fine, you cried out in sadness and anger again—and my consciousness faded.
Fafnir was the only surviving researcher.
All lives in the “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute” perished without exception due to the “Curse of the Thief of the Law of Blood.”
That was the end of Fanian’s story.
The true “last page”—
—Or so it should have been, but it seems there was still a continuation.
A thousand years after that death, the stage shifts from the Fanian region to the Regia region.
The era jumps from Year 4 of the New Calendar to Year 1015 of the New Calendar.
There, I meet you again.
I, who had become a “Blood Doll,” and Shiso Kanami fought—but it didn’t come to that, and I was easily inserted with the magic《Distance Mute》—and then, you, who relived my life through “Past Sight,” opened your eyes wide in shock at me slicing my own neck—and unconsciously touched your neck with your left hand.
My throat spasmed as if burning, and I struggled to breathe.
“—Haa! Ha, ha, ha…”
“Haa, haa…”
Having absorbed decades of memories into my brain in just a few seconds, I began to regulate my ragged breathing.
I swallowed the shock of a [death] that, in a normal life, would only happen once, along with my breaths.
Terrifying.
The torture and abuse I endured should have driven any normal person insane.
However, Shiso Kanami seemed somewhat accustomed to it, and was incorporating it as his own sustenance.
—Meanwhile, my right hand, glowing purple, remained thrust into my body.
I immediately looked around to confirm the situation.
When I realized it, I was standing in an unfamiliar town.
Stone houses lined the streets, all of them stained crimson. Every building was smeared with blood, and the crimson mist covered the sky.
Also, the hard street beneath my feet was submerged in a pool of blood that reached above my knees, so I couldn’t see it.
If I looked closely, I could see dead monsters and unidentifiable lumps of flesh floating nearby.
Thinking it was a place that would be satisfying to clean, the word “Blood Land” came to mind.
It was information from the arm I had thrust into you, but it gave me “peace.”
—In other words, this is an outside world, but it’s the same as that “Seventh Demon Obstruction Research Institute.”
God does have a sense of humor.
I, who could only live in hell, am given such a continuation.
I gave a bitter smile at the somewhat ironic story.
“Ahaha, ha—.”
“Ha, ha, ha… haa…”
I finished regulating my breathing and raised my face.
I looked at the face of God who had given me a continuation.
It was similar to Fafnir’s.
No matter how strong, no matter how sane, a face far from “happiness” or “peace.”
It was so unsettling that I took a step back, pulled out my magical arm, and corrected the confusion between us.
The Kanami perspective is no longer useful, so I will proceed from this girl’s perspective.
*From now on, I plan to post on Fridays at 8 PM.
