—Are you harboring confusion?
—Are you seeking meaning in your existence, in the power you've acquired?
—So you would rather die at my hands?
Every word that the Demon King of Incarceration uttered seemed to peer into the depths of the specter’s soul.
Thus, the specter did not deny it. In fact, he couldn't, for they were all true. He remained entangled in his own confusion about his existence.
Why had Vermouth granted him this power? What was he supposed to do with it, and why hadn't he been killed instead? He was tormented by contemplation and self-loathing.
For that reason alone, the specter had come to Babel, the abode of the Demon King of Incarceration.
He wanted to confront the Demon King of Incarceration to seek death, a release from his torment.
—Even in that sense, you are like Hamel.
Those words pierced the specter's heart.
‘I am not him,’ he denied internally.
The death of Hamel, as written in fairy tales, had been a sacrifice to save his companions.
The specter didn't know the exact circumstances or emotions Hamel faced in choosing death. However, he thought Hamel's choice of suicide had a different meaning than his own.
His decision now was one of despair. It was a choice to escape all his dilemmas and self-hatred.
He had not come to the decision because his body was broken beyond the capacity to fight. It wasn’t for his companions nor for the world.
Would his power affect the Demon King of Incarceration? The specter knew which way the scales would tip if he weighed the desire for verification against the despair that prompted surrender. His suicidal intent was solely for himself. It was devoid of any greater cause.
Thump.
And yet, why was his heart pounding so? He knew the reason. The specter felt excitement about the situation itself.
He was in Babel, in the throne room at its peak. He was confronting the Demon King of Incarceration and preparing to engage in battle. It was something Hamel longed for but never achieved.
"Idiot," the Specter whispered in self-mockery. He extended his hand.
Countless chains, akin to spears, targeted him. The simple attack carried no malice. That didn't seem strange. The Demon King of Incarceration smiled at him from high above. Emotions such as malice, which were violent and sticky feelings, did not suit the Demon King of Incarceration.
But that didn't make his attacks mild, weak, or kind. A direct hit would mean certain death. The specter instinctively sensed this and clenched the air.
Crack!
A gray mass of dark power formed into a sword.
"You handle it well,” commented the Demon King of Incarceration.
He recognized the nature of this eerie and ominous power.
It was the origin of Destruction, something desperately craved by his followers yet beyond their grasp. It was a power befitting Destruction .
"You’ve surpassed being a vessel or a follower. You’ve become an incarnation. It's been a long time since I've seen a being like you,” the Demon King of Incarceration spoke with a smile.
An incarnation was a means for a god to interfere with the world. Gods had done so in the past, but in this era, even that had become impossible.
The specter swung his sword, and the chains shattered. In a single step, he leaped through space.
However, he was blocked. He hit something. But he hadn't felt a wall until the moment of impact.
He realized only as he was pushed back. There were chains flowing around him. This was the throne room of the Demon King of Incarceration. All laws were bound by his chains in this imprisoned world. Here, he was the absolute entity.
‘...What are these chains?’ the specter asked himself.
There were chains behind the Demon King of Incarceration. They were always accompanying him, and right now, they were sprawled like a cloak. Their ends penetrated space and connected elsewhere. In other words, the Demon King of Incarceration was connected to something.
Unfortunately, the specter couldn't guess what the chains signified or what the Demon King of Incarceration was connected to.
Creak.
The specter ignored the unanswered questions and gripped his sword again.
Boom!
An explosion of gray reached out in all directions. The power to destroy threatened the collapse of the throne room. Still smiling, the Demon King of Incarceration flipped his palm.
Whoosh!
The surging power vanished. Everything had been nullified with a single gesture. The specter had prepared himself for such an absurd outcome but could only release a hollow laugh after actually experiencing it.
'As I expected,' the specter thought.
The chains moved silently, and each time, the specter trembled. Just standing here put a tremendous strain on his existence. He felt as though he would instantly disintegrate if he relaxed, even for a moment.
The Demon King of Incarceration had coexisted with the Demon King of Destruction for centuries, maybe even longer. He was the only one among the Demon Kings to have stood on the same front as the Demon King of Destruction. However, the Demon King of Destruction had secluded himself in Ravesta from the moment the Oath that ensured peace was made.
‘Do these chains even bind Destruction?’ the specter pondered.
Crack, crackle.
His body started to crumble under the immense strain. Yet, this pain was no greater than what he had endured under the power of Destruction. The Demon King of Incarceration chuckled as he watched the specter raise himself and straighten his posture.
"Did you not seek death?" asked the Demon King of Incarceration.
The specter did not desire a meaningless death, so he swallowed his answer.
In the end, it was just stubborn defiance. He did not want to confront anything and everything related to memories that weren’t his own, including Eugene Lionheart, Hamel, Sienna Merdein, Molon, and Ruhr.
"You are a walking contradiction," whispered the Demon King of Incarceration. He was still smiling.
With a sharp breath, the specter swallowed his retort and kicked at the darkness. The dark power imprisoned by the chains was liberated.
Whirl!
A swirl of dark power enveloped the specter. His form was like a miniature version of the Demon King of Destruction.
The Demon King of Incarceration burst into genuine laughter at the sight of the specter standing at the center of the storm. "Have you been granted that much permission?" he shouted.
Boom!
Destruction advanced. All chains restraining the world were violently jolted. It felt as if they were on the verge of breaking. When was the last time he felt such resistance?
‘Three hundred years.’ The answer came easily to the Demon King of Incarceration.
There was no way he could forget. The Demon King of Incarceration raised his hand for the first time. His pale, bloodless hand clutched the darkness and grasped it. He transformed it all into chains.
Shrrrrr!
Though the Demon King of Incarceration held just a single chain, countless others were entwined within it. The way he pulled the chain seemed gentle, and the motion to draw the chains was succinct. But the impact on the specter was anything but light. An indescribable shock severed his consciousness.
He didn't fly away upon impact; the chains of the Demon King of Incarceration didn't permit it. Thousands of chains spread out like a spiderweb and ensnared Destruction.
Creak, creak.
However, being captured didn’t signal the end. The specter regained consciousness as the chains attempted to bind his powers.
Crack!
The specter rose in the form of Destruction. The chains broke as he fought back and roared like a beast. He charged towards the Demon King of Incarceration.
The specter’s sword was infused with the dark power of Destruction. While the power of Destruction could annihilate anything it touched, the chains were the essence of the Demon King of Incarceration’s power. They did not perish under the onslaught of Destruction.
Instead, the chains broke but quickly reconnected.
The Demon King of Incarceration pulled the chain once more as he watched the specter charge.
The distance between them did not grow, nor was the specter hindered in his approach. Instead, the specter was pulled in as if he were being dragged by the chains. An irresistible force seemed to grab him by the scruff.
Even so, the specter maintained full control over his body. The power of Destruction surged forth from the specter like a violent storm.
Seeing this, the Demon King of Incarceration's eyes curved into a smile.
The Great Demon King had not known the concept of struggle for the longest time. Even Vermouth and his companions had failed to instill a sense of struggle in the Demon King of Incarceration. Naturally, emotions associated with the act of struggle had also faded a long time ago.
The same held true even now. This battle was not a struggle for the Demon King of Incarceration. Yet, he respected the specter's power. Even though the specter was an anomaly of existence and had not properly ascended Babel, the Demo King of Incarceration acknowledged and respected the specter for invading his throne room and displaying hostility. He decided to deem the specter as worthy of being his enemy.
That was all.
The Great Demon King’s devotion was dreadful and cruel.
The court became akin to the void where Vermouth existed but in a different sense. Moments here stretched like an eternity under the influence of boundless violence. The flow of time itself seemed imprisoned and whimsically toyed with by the Great Demon King's power and will.
The specter resisted. Never once did he give up resisting.
The specter was a fake born from Hamel’s memories, and he had come to Babel to die. However, he had no intention of meeting a futile death, a death without resistance.
He remained ignorant of the reason for his existence.
His decision to come to Babel was ultimately an escape from contemplation and self-loathing.
Yet, the specter ascribed meaning to his actions of facing the Demon King of Incarceration and attacking him. He came to die, but at some point, or perhaps from the beginning, he genuinely sought to defeat the Demon King of Incarceration.
"Is that so?" the specter chuckled to himself.
An unmeasured length of time passed.
He believed he had done everything possible. The specter confronted the Demon King of Incarceration with every means at his disposal. But none of his attacks ever reached the Demon King of Incarceration.
He had become an Incarnation of Destruction. But despite becoming such an entity, or perhaps because of it, his current power failed to reach the Demon King of Incarceration. Each attempt to connect was met with the clank of chains. All of his attacks were turned to naught.
"I won’t be able to kill you with this power." After muttering these words, the specter spat out black blood. He struggled to lift his head as he was overcome with a violent fit of coughs.
He saw the Demon King of Incarceration standing high in the darkness. Despite all the attacks he had unleashed, the Demon King of Incarceration remained unscathed. It couldn't be helped as none of the specter's assaults had even grazed the Demon King of Incarceration’s robes.
Crack….
Lifting his head wasn't enough. The specter gasped for breath and forced his body to rise. His body, made of and fueled by dark power, did not immediately comply with his will due to the extensive damage he suffered. As such, he crumbled like dust as he forced himself up.
Nevertheless, the specter managed to stand up in the end. He prepared for the next battle while coughing up more black blood.
......
When he regained consciousness and opened his eyes, the specter found he could no longer move. He calmly accepted it. His limbs had vanished due to the aftermath of the recent attack, and they weren’t regenerating. What remained of his pitiful body was entangled and pierced by chains of dark power.
The difference had been absolutely overwhelming.
He felt an unavoidable gap that led him to despair. The specter had never fought against other Demon Kings, but the memories he possessed of Hamel included experiences of battling other Demon Kings in the past.
Hamel had battled against the Demon Kings of Carnage, Cruelty, and Fury. However, the Demon King of Incarceration was different in every way compared to those Demon Kings. It almost felt as if the term 'Demon King' was coined solely to be used by the Demon King of Incarceration.
It didn’t seem suitable for any other existence to claim the title of Demon King. Their self-proclamation alone would be an insult to the Demon King of Incarceration.
"The Great Demon King," saying so, the specter shook his head with a sneer. Before meeting his death in the Samar Forest, Edmund Codreth had foolishly believed that he could become the Great Demon King if his ritual had succeeded. Had he really thought he could become a Great Demon King with just that much power? The specter could only scoff in disbelief upon reflection.
He didn't witness the ritual to its end since Edmund Codreth was killed midway by Eugene, but even if a hundredfold sacrifices were made, it wouldn't have sufficed for him to become a true Great Demon King.
He realized such power couldn't be attained through sacrifices or rituals.
"Kill me,” the specter uttered while raising his head.
Once filled with boundless chains and darkness, the world had reverted to its original appearance. He was once again in the throne room of the Demon King of Incarceration. The limbless specter was tethered to protruding chains mid-air, and he was facing the Demon King of Incarceration seated on the throne.
The battle was over. The Demon King of Incarceration no longer indulged in the fight.
He smiled and said, "You're under a misconception."
"...Misconception?" asked the specter.
"I am a Demon King, not a god,” replied the Demon King of Incarceration.
These were very obvious words. The Specter frowned while glaring at the Demon King of Incarceration.
"If I were a god, I might grant your wish, but as a Demon King, I have no reason to. Rather, I'd refuse and mock it,” he said. The Demon King of Incarceration flicked a finger. Chains melted into the darkness and formed a large circle.
"Having come here to die by my hand, I will never kill you,” declared the Demon King of Incarceration.
The specter’s expression contorted when he realized the Demon King of Incarceration’s intention. He tried to muster his power to resist, but before he could move, chains hurled him through the portal created by the circle. The Demon King of Incarceration snorted after throwing the specter through the door.
"The meaning of existence is found by oneself, not begged from a Demon King," the Demon King of Incarceration said.
The specter, already flung elsewhere, would not hear these whispers.
It did not matter. The Demon King of Incarceration wasn’t offering advice. He chuckled while dismissing the chains.
Despite being trampled so, that existence did not despair.
He had come to die yet resisted till the very end.
His eyes had been devoid of despair even in the last moments when he had been begging for death.
Therefore, that existence would find new answers to his questions.
The Demon King of Incarceration was curious what those answers would be.
Openbookworm & DantheMan's Thoughts