Chapter 66 - The Mausoleum of Moonshadow (8)

The Dark Elf remained lost in thought for a long while. As he wrestled with his decision, Raguel returned to the forest where Maphel’tan waited. He glanced around before speaking.

"... Maphel’tan, are you all right?"

There were signs of a fight nearby. The ground was gouged out, and the ashen undergrowth was burning black.

Maphel’tan nodded.

"Oh, it was nothing."

His expression was as composed as ever.

Raguel sighed with relief.

"Thank goodness."

Zal’karin popped out of nowhere and declared,

"Even that black pointy-eared bastard must have been helpless before the great End!"

Startled, Raguel clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh! He can hear you, idiot."

Then he anxiously checked the Dark Elf’s reaction.

The Dark Elf lifted his eyelids, roused from his thoughts. A pure jade-green glow shone from his eyes as he regarded Raguel and Zal’karin.

Zal’karin cleared his throat and looked away.

"A-ahem."

"Y-you idiot."

Raguel hiccuped, taut with nerves.

The Dark Elf spoke slowly.

"... Let me ask you one thing."

He turned straight to Maphel’tan, seemingly uninterested in Raguel or Zal’karin. Relieved, Raguel rubbed his chest.

Maphel’tan said,

"Ask anything."

"What do you intend to do?"

Maphel’tan’s brow creased slightly.

"Give me some context. Ask a specific question, and I’ll answer."

"I’m asking about your ultimate goal. You are allied with a witch, and now you have a High Elf serving you. What do you seek to achieve with that power?"

"A foolish question. I am an Apostle—no, a Demon. Every Demon’s goal is clear. The end of humanity. Mine is little different."

The Dark Elf narrowed his eyes.

"You truly want humanity to end?"

"Does it sound like a lie?"

"I admit I have my doubts. If you truly look forward to humanity’s end, why would you simply throw away an asset like us?"

Maphel’tan intended to throw every Demon in the mausoleum into the royal capital—in other words, into a pit of fire. He was simply discarding a useful fighting force. If he truly wanted war with humanity, he should have offered them something else instead. An alliance, for instance.

Maphel’tan said,

"Frankly, you have little value as allies. Your hatred of me is the first reason. Those ‘ideals’ of yours, so unlike a Demon’s, are the second. I need pawns with no will of their own who will play along with my plans. Beings like you, who harbor other ideals, will eventually become uncontrollable loose cannons."

Deep in the hearts of the mausoleum’s Demons lingered a faint dream of rebuilding the elven race. It might have faded considerably by now, but that desire was likely to sprout again someday. Depending on the circumstances, their interests could come into conflict with Maphel’tan’s. That was why they could not work together.

Nor were they worth that risk to him. It would have been another matter had they possessed a witch’s potential, but unfortunately, the limits of the mausoleum’s Demons were all too clear.

The Dark Elf gave a hollow laugh.

"So you’ll use us as expendables?"

Maphel’tan nodded.

"Well, that’s about the size of it."

He said something utterly shameless as though it were nothing.

The Dark Elf’s eyes curved into crescents. He abruptly began to snicker, then burst into laughter. Maphel’tan could not quite understand what he found so funny.

For a while, only that eerie laughter echoed through the forest. A fair amount of time passed before it subsided. Apparently somewhat calmer, the Dark Elf spoke.

"Perhaps you really are an Apostle. You have a screw loose, much like those exalted beings."

Maphel’tan shrugged.

"I’ll take that as a compliment. So, have you decided?"

The Dark Elf began to move, slowly circling Maphel’tan as he spoke.

"In exchange for our attack on the royal capital, you will bring down the moon and rebuild elven civilization. Those are the broad terms of the contract, correct?"

Maphel’tan nodded.

"Correct. Let’s go over the details now."

A contract of this kind had to specify exact deadlines and detailed terms.

The Dark Elf said,

"I’ll draw up the first draft."

* * *

───────────────────

『 Article 1: Purpose 』

The purpose of this contract is to ensure that, in exchange for an attack upon the royal capital of Arterium by the contracted parties, the Demons of the mausoleum (hereinafter referred to as the Elves), the contractor Maphel’tan shall provide the powers and subjects necessary for the Elves’ undertaking—namely, the downfall of the moon and the rebuilding of elven civilization.

『 Article 2: Provisions by Maphel’tan 』

The contractor Maphel’tan shall bear absolute responsibility and an obligation to fulfill the following three items.

1. Priority Use of Holy Relics and Treasures.

Should Maphel’tan discover any treasure or relic capable of manifesting miracles in the future, he must prioritize its use for the purpose of enabling Dark Elves to reproduce. This obligation shall take precedence over his own survival, war, and orders from the Apostolic hierarchy.

2. Active Search for Miraculous Relics.

Maphel’tan must personally, continually, and actively pursue objects containing miracles capable of ensuring the survival and renewed reproduction of the Dark Elf race. Such actions shall be considered not mere ‘cooperation,’ but a mandatory mission requiring the exercise of his Apostolic authority.

3. Annihilation of the Moon.

As a matter of principle, Maphel’tan shall make no compromise with Great Saint Marziel (the moon), or any of his creations, thralls, or ideologies. However, a compromise may be temporarily permitted if contact or negotiations with Marziel serve as a strategic deception or lure intended to eliminate him. Should an actual opportunity to eliminate Marziel arise, however, Maphel’tan must do so immediately, without regard for any conditions, circumstances, or sacrifices. Any delay or abandonment of that action shall constitute grounds for termination of the entire contract. The Elves shall have the right to retaliate in any form, including punishment, interrogation, erasure of memories, and annihilation.

『 Article 3: Obligations of the Elves 』

1. Guarantee of Total Annihilation During the Attack on the Royal Capital

In the attack on the royal capital that constitutes the initial stage of this contract, the Elves swear to employ every means to destroy themselves so that not a single individual survives. They must not contradict the stated premise of their powerlessness, and any attempt to flee or survive shall constitute a breach of contract.

2. Prohibition of Descendants, Branch Families, and Exiles

A register must be compiled in advance, and every individual must be included in the operation before the date of the attack on the royal capital, so that not a single Elf remains in the world. This includes not only all Elves currently upon this land, but also hidden bloodlines, defectors, branch families, exiles, and individuals of mixed blood with other races. This clause is irrevocable. Should the survival of even one individual be confirmed, Maphel’tan shall be deemed the legitimately aggrieved party, and the Elves shall pay the price of ‘those who deceived.’

『 Article 4: Breach of Contract and Punitive Provisions 』

This contract is not a temporary agreement but a perpetual contract secured by the entirety of the parties’ lives, races, and existence. Should even one of the following items be violated, the offending party shall be subject to erasure from existence, and the aggrieved party shall possess unlimited authority to exact punishment.

. . . . . . Further text omitted.

───────────────────

Maphel’tan slowly read through the black writing suspended in the air.

‘A high-ranking Demon is a high-ranking Demon, all right.’

The contract, which ran to Article 7, had been drafted in meticulous detail. Neither party had much room to escape the other. Its sheer detail left him slightly uneasy, but ultimately, it made no difference to Maphel’tan. Restoring the elves and bringing down the moon were both goals he had already assigned top priority.

When Maphel’tan nodded, the Dark Elf asked,

"Is there anything you wish to add or amend?"

"This will suffice. You’ve been very thorough."

"The result of a lesson I learned from Lord Beris long ago."

Beris, the Twelfth Apostle of the End and the Archdemon who governed contracts. His name had come up out of nowhere.

Maphel’tan smirked and murmured,

"Beris? I didn’t find him all that impressive."

He had once used Shaperia to get the better of Beris.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Let’s sign."

Black demonic energy rose from Maphel’tan’s and the Dark Elf’s fingertips. Their signatures appeared on the contract suspended in midair. A moment later, it turned into black mist and seeped into their hearts.

The Dark Elf said,

"It is done. We’ll meet again at the full moon."

The gate to the Abyss would open only when the full moon came. It was still a full week away.

"Very well. We can gather at the mausoleum’s entrance."

* * *

Time passed swiftly. On the day of the full moon, ashen horrors swallowed the horizon. Every one of them was a cursed elf.

At the head of that pallid horde, a pitch-black Demon alone radiated presence. As he took a step forward, the evil spirits followed. The earth shook as though its very foundations would collapse. An army of evil was on the march.

Countless emotions flickered across their faces. Anticipation, anger, self-mockery, hatred, ecstasy, regret, anguish... Each individual was in a different state of mind.

Yet they were one. However different their thoughts and feelings, the elves moved as a single body. Such cohesion was rare among ordinary Demons. If they came to share the same emotion as well, the repercussions could far exceed human imagination.

As they did now.

Every horror stopped in unison. Their varied expressions were taking on the same shape. Suspicion and anger. Their faces twisted with hatred.

SKREEEEEE!

A piercing roar shook heaven and earth.

"I smell a human!"

"Where has another one crawled in from?"

"Find him! We must find him!"

The eyes frantically searching left and right gradually fixed upon a single spot. Ahead of them, a boy stood alone in the ashen woods. Wearing a warding mask and warding cloak, he watched the evil spirits with a rigid expression.

"Y-Yohan, are you sure you’re all right?"

The voice came from the rock face behind him.

Yohan swallowed a groan.

"Raguel, now I see why you couldn’t help losing consciousness."

The unfathomable hatred of an overwhelming multitude bore down on a single human. It would take extraordinary mental fortitude to remain sane. Even Yohan, who possessed an Apostle’s soul, felt his hands and feet begin to tremble.

Their stench, their shrieks, every expression and gesture inspired terror. He could hardly bring himself to meet the eyes of the Dark Elf at their head.

The Dark Elf rushed over in an instant and stopped before Yohan. Yohan closed both eyes—not so much out of fear as because of the Great Saint’s eyes. The moment their gazes met, the Dark Elf would be unable to restrain his murderous intent. The Great Saint’s eyes were, after all, sacred relics that drew the hatred of Demons.

"... A human? So that explains the smell I’ve been noticing."

Of all days, the scales of equivalence had run their course today. Yohan was once again human by day and a Demon by night. He spoke as calmly as he could.

"Have you gathered all your brethren?"

"What...?"

"Article 3, Clause 2. Surely you haven’t forgotten already?"

Prohibition of descendants, branch families, and exiles. Every elf had to gather here, without a single exception.

The Dark Elf’s face contorted. Something about Yohan’s expression, manner of speaking, and air felt strangely familiar. His voice trembled as he spoke.

"What are you?"

Zal’karin poked his head out from inside Yohan’s clothes.

"He is the great End. You’re on your way to the afterlife. Show some manners for once."