114.Sacrilege Time

Deep under the Demon King Castle.

In a certain room in the base of the lich――

The space that is literally just a gouged granite looks exactly like a morgue. The corpses of beastfolk and humans were placed haphazardly in there. That rustic place was filled with the smell of corpses, cold air, and inorganic matter.

But calling it a morgue was―― An overstatement――

『――GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!』

The reason was that the place was far from calm.

The soul was screaming right before my eyes. The scream of the sword saint whose soul was being forcefully pulled out from the spirit realm was――

Because the evil chant, which sounds like a buzzing circular saw was gouging and squashing the 『Flesh』 of the soul.

「It'll only feel painful for the first time.」

Enma, who stood by my side, was controlling the magical power of darkness like a conductor.

『AAAAAAAAAAA S-T-O- S-T-O-P-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT――!』

The soul of the sword saint who adamantly refused to cooperate with Enma and the Demon King army, in the beginning, had already bawled like a kid by now.

His cheek, nose, and ears had already been torn asunder, his spiritual eyes ruptured, turned his eyes' socket into an empty hole, and his throat was smashed, so he couldn't even scream properly.

He was remade into a human specimen look alike. Stripped of their features when they were alive, their personality, even their dignity――

「Appearance doesn't really matter once you strip them of their skin.」

Enma explained while making an artificial smile on her face. Naturally, she didn't cease her control over the magical power of darkness――

「Whether they're king or slave, everyone is the same once they become a lump of flesh. And their bones are the only remaining fact that they used to be human.―― Now then, what do you think, Sword Saint?」

Literally, as she said, Enma asked again to the Sword Saint whose soul had already been stripped till only the skeletal frame of his soul remained.

「Will you lend us your power?」

The soul nodded, making a clattering sound with his toothless mouth―― Like a puppet show that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

「Wonderful. Welcome to the world without pain and agony!」

Enma poured the magical power of darkness into the underfoot of the corpse. The soul who had lost all the vestiges when they were alive was then sucked into their corpse.

――The Sword Saint's corpse then twitched.

The corpse then started moving clumsily, and stood up while picking up the round shield and curved sword left on his sides.

From my―― Demon Prince Jilbagias's perspective, I could feel it.

The magical power of darkness inside the corpse was the one that forcefully moved the body. It was no more than a low-rank undead that could be trashed so easily in the battlefield even by me from my previous life. Though they maintained their flesh and outward appearance, they were nothing more than a puppet.

「…」

The corpse of a former sword saint took an unsteady stance, with eyes that reflected nothing, and a mouth that flapped for no reason.

「Try to swing your sword.」

He swung his curved sword per Enma's order.

It is just a clumsy movement with no hint of elegance in it. No matter how I looked at it, it was just a clumsy slash, a far cry from the sharp and deadly slash that the Sword Saint polished in his entire life――

「As you can see, Jil-kun.」

Enma spoke to me with an artificial grin on her face.

「Even if I forcefully turned a Sword Saint into an undead, they couldn't exhibit their skill when they were still alive. Skill aside, they can't even swing their sword properly.」

「… Well, that's a given result I guess.」

I replied nonchalantly while suppressing the nauseous feeling in my stomach.

「By stripping off almost all of his personality, does that mean he lost all of his knowledge during his life? Honestly, I'm more surprised to see that he can wield and swing his sword.」

「That's because I left the minimum amount of personality as a human. There's no problem with basic movement.」

The former sword saint stopped swinging his sword when Enma said 「Enough!」.

「Go over there.」

He then walked clumsily like a new recruit thrown into training camp.

The sword saint who could close in the distance in a flash… Had been transformed into this sad slab of meat bag…

『Pipe down Alex. Take a breath.』

Ante’s warning resounded in my head.

「――」

I took a breath, doing my best to reign in my emotions. Before I realized it, the palms of my hands had already been bleeding since I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into the palm of my hand――

「I've tried various things. I mean, the sword saint will definitely become a great war potential.」

Enma heaved a sigh, not realizing my state.

「Sealing their consciousness right after summoning them, tampering with their recognition, I even did a sword dance in an attempt to make them to mistake me as their allies. Pruning the rebellious part of them which took a lot of time… But nothing is working.」

And finally shrugging her shoulders as she finished her recounting.

「Maybe because it's their pride as the sword saint is the biggest stumbling block? Or the logic of the world refused to smile down on the corpse that was controlled by magical power…」

「… Yeah, that's another possibility.」

I gave an appropriate reply as if to vent my anger.

Enma, that ain't something that you, who is toying with the dead, can understand! Someone like you will never understand just how much passion, tenacity, and determination are poured by the sword saints into their swordcraft!

Every single swing of their sword had a soul in it. That was the reason behind their transcendental acceleration. It was an attack beyond human logic!

Their soul was the essence of their special arts!

Like hell your filthy, dirty, and heretic art can make such perfection!

Their transcendental skills aren't something that can be remade with your sloppy heretic art!

『There's an example like Verossa.』

Ante spoke with a composed voice to calm my wrath.

『Depending on the situation, even the being with magical power can use special arts… If what you say about the core of their special art is in their soul… Then it might be possible to create sword saint undead with unprocessed soul…』

That's… Correct.

I was so pissed off.

I had… Let them die… without being able to do anything!!

This place was the stronghold of the lich. I couldn't afford to wreak havoc in this place with my trump card without knowing the whereabouts of Enma's true body!

「Is something the matter, Your Highness?」

Someone suddenly tapped my shoulder from behind.

When I turned to the side, the first thing I saw was an impish smile.

「Why the long face?」

… It was Claire.

「Well the thing is, I'm a warrior too. That's why I've some sort of respect for them.」

I replied naturally while heaving a sigh.

「I don't know how long their training was to arrive at their peak state… But I can't help but feel some sort of emptiness seeing their end.」

「You're too kind for a demon race, Jil-kun.」

Enma chuckled lightly hearing my reply… It was the first time I saw that kind of expression. Did she by chance increase the variations of her expression again?

Undead seems to have a problem with controlling their expression. Claire was the one who told me about this, but it seems she had to prepare a few kinds of expressions and switches in between depending on the situation.

Her expression transformed from serious, to angry, laughing, troubling as she said 『We might make a slip unless we practiced normally』 With an impish smile on her face.

She herself recreated the expression that resembled her own when she was alive――

「… I'm parched. Do you have a beverage?」

I gulped my spit felt bitter and then asked Enma for a drink.

「We have! I prepared tea for this situation, wait a second, I'll brew it personally for you.」

「Master has been practicing non-stop for this situation.」

「Please don't tell him that… And Jil-kun, you can practice on your own while I'm brewing the tea. Use the beastfolk one since his corpse has already been mangled so cruelly by the time I pick him up, so even if I turn him into an undead he might only become a low-rank undead.」

Enma left the room with springy steps after telling me to do some self-study.

… Self-study, is it?

「Now then, let's see what you got, Your Highness.」

Claire was watching me while humming happily.

I focused on the holy sword strapped on my waist.

Now was the chance to save the soul of the sword saints, and kill Cla―― No, it can't be done. Because I wouldn't be able to explain to Enma the reason why Claire turned into ashes.

Dammit.

… I have no choice I guess.

「Shall I try then?」

I spoke lightly as if it was no different from taking a stroll in order to tell myself――

Then turned around to face the corpse.

The corpse of the beastfolk―― That look like it was shredded with an edged tool had a mix of white hair among its' white fur.

I recited the aria, opened the gate of the spirit realm, and pulled out the soul of the corpse from the spirit realm――

『Aaah… Aaaah… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!』

The soul of the beastfolk raised a hoarse howl while it was crumbling away.

He must be suffering and in so much pain…

「What's your name?」

The beastfolk who looked at me with unfocused eyes upon hearing my question opened his mouth――

『Do… Ga… Jin…』

… Did that mean he doesn't have that much hatred left? Hatred aside… What made him so tormented like this?

『It's frustrating… Truly frustrating!』

The fist saint called Dogajin groaned regretfully.

『I have to complete my mission…! I have to tell everyone…!!』

And spoke with an expression filled with pain, anguish, and distress.

『I have to tell them this… No matter what…!!』

He looked at me with eyes that didn't have a shred of consciousness left.

『Please tell them… That green-haired Demon Prince is… Using magic… With his mouth!』

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