Torture Princess: Fremd Torturchen, Vol. 4

by Keishi Ayasato

  Splashhhhhhh!

  A loud noise echoed in the room as the Butcher sank underwater.

  A number of bubbles floated to the surface. But after a moment, the water’s surface grew calm.

  The Butcher didn’t appear to be putting up much of a fight.

  “Hmm.”

  Finding that fact suspicious, Elisabeth snapped her fingers. Chains clanged as they dragged the chair up from the water. It was empty. The Butcher was nowhere to be seen.

  “I did tell you; if I wish to call myself the Butcher, then surely, I should be able to flip over my body within my cloak the moment before I get strung up. When one lives as long as I have, they develop a knack for escaping restraints.”

  A playful tone rose from beside Elisabeth. She turned to look to the other side of the bed. At some point, the Butcher had sat down on it, and at present, he was casually swinging his legs.

  Elisabeth took a closer look at the Butcher’s demeanor. Swinging her sword at him from this range would be child’s play. But she suspected the only thing she’d end up destroying was the bed.

  Little point in throwing good money after bad, I suppose.

  For the time being, Elisabeth elected to stop using force. Adjusting her seat on the bed, she turned to face the Butcher. He continued his speech with the same unaffected cheerfulness as always, as though the two of them were merely having an inconsequential chat.

  “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but one really does experience so many things over the course of a long life. Founding the very first guilds, the grand expedition to find the rainbow-hued Mana Egg, leading an army five thousand strong, decorating my beloved dragons…”

  “More of your usual nonsense?”

  “What would you say if I told you it was all true, Madam Elisabeth?”

  The Butcher tilted his head to the side. Elisabeth gave him a long, hard stare.

  From the other side of the deep darkness in his hood, he awaited her reaction. She offered no response. He let a few more words slip.

  “What would you say if I told you that I hailed from a time before the Saint carried out her duty and fell into her deep slumber, Madam Elisabeth?”

  “If that was all, then I daresay I’d do naught. The only bit that catches my attention is the possibility of you being my enemy.”

  “Whatever are you talking about, Madam Elisabeth?! I’m not your enemy, not in the slightest!”

  With that, the Butcher hopped up and down in his standard display of protest.

  “I’m not the enemy of anyone personally. I’m the enemy of all things that exist in this world! That, and I am a merchant.”

  Elisabeth crossed her legs and leaned forward, her cheeks resting on her palms. She glared the Butcher’s way.

  His declaration had been extremely troubling, but the tone he continued in was, for some reason, incredibly endearing.

  “And not just humans, everyone is my enemy. And they are my customers. That is why I was born, and that is why I yet live. Not a lie or falsehood escapes my tongue when I say that truly, everything I’ve done and everything I do has been for your sakes. All for you, my dear customers. And my, what pleasant days they’ve been. And that, precisely, is why I know that better than any.”

  The Butcher gently swung his short, scaled legs from side to side. Then he let out a vaguely heartrending mutter.

  “‘For the beginning, the middle, and the end all lie in the palm of His hand.’ That, truly, sums up this world.”

  “I see. A rather grim tale, that.”

  Elisabeth gave a faint murmur. Sighing, she bent her back and calmly uncrossed her slender legs. Then she nonchalantly snapped her fingers.

  “I find God rather abhorrent, after all—Hellhole.”

  As she spoke, Elisabeth leaped, leaving only the Butcher behind on the bed.

  “Hweh?”

  The bedroom shook, and its floor collapsed. The broken shutters, the chest of drawers, and the bed were all swallowed up by a conical hole. Within it, a grotesque mass of bugs clamored and buzzed.

  Elisabeth was hanging from her sword, which she’d successfully thrust into the ceiling. Raising her face, she looked out at the scene before her. As she’d expected, the Butcher was unharmed. Having adroitly stuck himself to the ceiling, he was currently quite angry. His anger was of a type wholly unbefitting the situation, though, and it almost seemed like it was possible for comical bursts of steam to burst out of his ears.

  “How underhanded! I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you here, and I’d appreciate it greatly if you’d stop trying to kill me so heartlessly! We had a deal! You promised!”

  “I don’t recall promising you anything. Vlad goes without saying, but I loathe any who tell me stories laden with subtext. Oh, and one other thing.”

  “One other thing?”

  “Gibbet.”

  Elisabeth gave her fingers a light snap.

  Still hanging from her sword with one hand, she mercilessly summoned yet another torture device.

  “Oh, deary me.”

  A long, narrow swirl of darkness and crimson petals encircled the Butcher from top to bottom. A cramped cage, one that a human could just barely fit in if they stood up straight, materialized, then clamped shut around the Butcher.

  With another snap of her fingers, Elisabeth dispelled the Hellhole. She then dropped to the ground and made an elegant landing.

  The Butcher remained trapped within his cage. He stroked his jaw in contemplation.

  “Simultaneous deployment? That’s far too stylish, Madam Elisabeth. Hmm, hmm. To think that I, the Butcher, would become a bird in a cage… Oh? Wait. Might I, by any chance, be playing the role of the captured princess?”

  “’Tis far too late for jokes, Butcher. Tell me why you sold the demon flesh. Tell me where you obtained it. Tell me everything you know. Everything you’re plotting. Spit out everything it is that you think I might like to know.”

  “Ah, well, that’s Madam Elisabeth for you. Mr. Dim-Witted Servant could never have posed those questions so very economically.”

  “Do it, or the needles and spears shall make their appearance.”

  Elisabeth snapped her fingers, causing darkness and petals to flare up once again. The cage was soon surrounded by needles. Their sharpness was immediately apparent. The Torture Princess spoke, her face frozen with an ice-cold glare.

  “Taking pleasure in pain and in screams—were you not aware? That happens to be my field of expertise.”

  “I suppose it is… If that’s the case, then I’d wager you’d be well served by visiting the tomb beneath the Capital. A number of things are going to become apparent there right around now, you see.”

  The Butcher’s response was vague. As carefree as his tone was, though, he appeared to be serious. There was no indication that he was joking. But the contents of his claim lacked anything even resembling details.

  Elisabeth frowned. Showing no fear toward the needles, the Butcher calmly went on.

  “It’s a nonsensical little fairy tale, and one that’s gone on for a very, very long time. There are those who’ve worked to bring these events about, and those who’ve worked to prevent them. I am among the former, but the latter group shall begin to move in earnest quite soon. You’d best be going, Madam Elisabeth.”

  The Butcher spoke in a tone one might use with a child. His jaw loosened a little, as though he were looking at someone radiant. And even though he was on the verge of being tortured, he spoke with the quiet calmness of an old retiree.

  “If I’m being quite honest, your existence was rather outside my expectations. As I always say, I have little interest in the fights between men and demons. After all, they are of little consequence to the result. I’d never thought someone would rise to oppose the dreadful end of the story that the fourteen tragedies mark the beginning of. And Mr. Dim-Witted Servant is the same. Though your two tales may be small in the scope of things, the results they bear may be monumental indeed
… Who knows, after all, how the world may turn from here on?”

  “…You speak in riddles. I demand details.”

  Elisabeth raised her hand, fingers poised to snap.

  As she did, the door opened behind her. The voice that crossed the threshold was serious, yet given the situation, it seemed almost carefree.

  “Pardon me. Elisabeth, are you… O-oh?”

  “Izabella?”

  Surprised at the unexpected visitor, Elisabeth wheeled around.

  There, she found an attractive paladin sporting silver hair and a mismatched pair of blue and purple eyes. Several hideous scars were etched into her skin. It looked almost like her entire body had burst from within.

  In spite of her scars, her face was still beautiful. Izabella curled her lips into a frown.

  “I have information and an order I need to convey to you. I apologize for the sudden intrusion, but what exactly is going on here? Are you…disciplining one of your servants or something? You may be the Torture Princess, but I should think this is taking it a bit far, no?”

  “Oh, hardly, but there are a number of circumstances at play here. Now then, your business?”

  Given the situation, and the fact that Elisabeth had no idea how many people were involved, she could hardly carry out torture right in front of Izabella.

  Elisabeth dispelled the needles, leaving only the Gibbet remaining. The Butcher, still standing upright, showed no particular signs of relief. After casting a concerned glance his way, Izabella gave her report.

  “An order’s come down from above. But even I’m in the dark as to where they got their information from, so I have doubts regarding its credibility. For whatever reason, though, all the soldiers under my command have their marching orders. Please, try not to be too surprised when you hear what I have to say.”

  “Out with it already! I’d sensed the situation’s irregularity the moment you stepped through my door rather than merely sending a message. Just say your piece.”

  Elisabeth brusquely urged Izabella on. Izabella responded with a short nod.

  She herself seemed bewildered by the next words that came out of her mouth.

  “Kaito Sena, the Kaiser’s contractor, will make his appearance.”

  “‘Will’? Not ‘has made his appearance’?”

  Elisabeth frowned. The words reeked strangely of prophecy.

  After all, although she hadn’t told them, Kaito was currently in the land of the beastfolk. The Church shouldn’t have had any way of tracking his movements.

  How, then, could they predict so confidently where he’d show his face?

  “He’s slated to make his appearance at the site where the mass of flesh consumed the royal castle—at the underground tomb where all the kings of old lie. But I have no idea what basis they’re making that decree under.”

  Aye, the reason for their conjecture is unclear. ’Tis as though they saw him perform the teleportation firsthand…

  Elisabeth narrowed her crimson eyes. The sense of discomfort nagging at her was growing by the moment. Then she cast a glance toward the Butcher in his cage. He said nothing, but it was clear that from within his hood, he was smiling.

  “I hope it’s simply just another byproduct of the general disarray in our chain of command. After Godd Deos passed, a number of strange things have been happening. And the order has another part to it.”

  Izabella’s expression darkened. She, too, was clearly uncomfortable, and likely about the same thing. But after shaking her head, she revealed the grave finale.

  “We’ve been ordered to make absolutely sure we kill him before he can enter the tomb.”

  It was the moment Elisabeth had surely been waiting for,

  and the words she’d least wanted to hear.

  The dance of the golden light and white feathers came to an end. They transformed into droplets, then all melted away at once.

  After they’d completed their extravagant transformation, a new wasteland spread out before them, different from the destroyed village they’d just left behind.

  Their surroundings were gray and barren as far as the eye could see. Off in the distance, they could just barely make out a small clump of buildings that had avoided destruction. Upon looking at the distant townscape, Kaito realized that he’d seen it before.

  “Wait, this is…”

  At the same time, the plot they were standing on was new to him. In fact, even among the people who lived in the Capital, not many would have ever had a chance to set foot here.

  Kaito and the others now found themselves in the center of the Capital; before the mass of flesh had consumed the entire area, it had housed a castle hailed as resembling a white rose and also accommodated a grand garden as well as a number of vacation homes belonging to prominent aristocrats.

  However, the events that had taken place here had been no ordinary calamity, and not a single trace remained of the buildings that had once been there. As a matter of fact, the land was strangely smooth. It was like some massive monster had run its tongue over the ground and lapped up everything it found.

  And now that I think about it, that’s not far off from what actually happened.

  Kaito was well aware of that. After all, this was where the Monarch, the Grand Monarch, and the King had intentionally been set forth to swallow up the land. The center of the Capital had been the heart of human civilization, and the demons had utterly and completely destroyed it. However, there was one thing still standing there, strangely unharmed.

  Amid the vast nothingness, a statue of the Saint shedding tears of blood stood tall.

  She was hanging upside down, and a rectangular pit sat directly beneath her head. There was a good chance it had originally been locked up tight and covered by a pedestal, but the statue’s protection must not have extended that far, and the mass of flesh must have melted it all away. Kaito squinted, trying to make out what was within.

  Deep in the darkness, he could make out a set of stairs. They had likely avoided destruction by virtue of being underground.

  Jeanne strode forth, her steps light as she made her way toward its entrance.

  “Come now, everyone, let’s be on our way. In the quest for truth, you must simply put one foot in front of the other. The words Ask and ye shall receive are rarely true, but this case is one exception to that rule.”

  “The ‘truth’… What exactly is down there?”

  “A place with no connection to the lives of the stray sheep—the ancestral tomb of the royal family. One of the high priests, the Grave Keeper, bears full responsibility for protecting it. But what they’re hiding away and guarding so closely aren’t just the corpses of geezers who kicked the bucket.”

  Jeanne gave her answer. Unfortunately, though, she stopped short of the most important part.

  She continued on at her leisurely pace. Kaito gazed in frustration at the swaying, honey-blond hair covering her back.

  As always, her communication skills were lacking in the extreme.

  Then he turned his gaze to the ashen earth around him. The current king and the surviving nobles were taking shelter somewhere else at the moment, and they hadn’t gotten around to any sort of restoration effort yet. There was nobody there to interfere with them.

  Jeanne kept walking, her strides almost rhythmical.

  Now that they’d come this far, there was no turning back.

  In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

  Kaito followed after her. Hina and the Kaiser did the same. As Jeanne approached the pit the statue was guarding, though, Kaito noticed a white light flickering at the edge of his vision.

  He thought it might just be an optical illusion, but the lone dot suddenly multiplied. One by one, they ignited, like candles arranged in a ring. Cylindrical lights formed in a circle around Kaito and the others.

  “Ah, I see. Sure enough, they’d really rather we not enter the tomb. But given that we’re in the Capital, they can’t exactly use their transfigured paladins. All ri
ght, all right, let’s have us a look-see. How do y’all wanna dance?”

  As Jeanne murmured, the lights all transformed into droplets and fell in a cascade, leaving behind people in silver armor.

  Jeanne cast a glance at the paladins forming a perimeter around herself and the others as though to appraise them.

  “Enough fucking around… Where is your leader?”

  Right as she spoke, a particularly bright light flashed directly in front of Kaito and the rest.

  When the white light bled away, the figure standing in its wake was one that Kaito knew well.

  “It’s been some time, Kaito Sena.”

  “…Izabella.”

  It was the beautiful, silver-haired commander of the Holy Knights: Izabella Vicker.

  Kaito was about to say something, but he immediately lost his train of thought. When he’d fled from the Capital, he hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at her face. But now that he had a chance to see for himself, he noticed her skin was covered in cruel scars.

  They marked the time she’d used summoning magic in the battle for the Capital. Unable to withstand the force of the mana, her body had burst from within.

  Kaito unthinkingly let out a shocked cry.

  “Those wounds… Did you get those when you performed the summoning?! Dammit, I told you that you were being rash!”

  “How strange of you to say that, Kaito Sena. You turned against mankind. That makes me your enemy, so why lend me any sympathy?”

  Izabella spoke, her voice filled with puzzlement. Kaito immediately shut up. As the Kaiser shot a mocking glance at him from his side, Kaito bit down on his lip.

  Oh, right… I’m not really in any position to be worrying about Izabella.

  Kaito glanced around the gray Capital. He, Izabella, the Torture Princess, and the paladins had all waged a desperate battle to protect the townscape off in the distance.

  Then he shifted his gaze back to Izabella. For a moment, he felt a weighty sense of fatigue press down on his body.