this nonsense about restructuring your desire as well? Every creature in this world may well die thanks to you. So you can skip the nonsensical rejoicing over a single woman's survival." "Hmm, I must say, calling it my 'desire' is really quite off the mark. But I suppose you are right." "Yet, at the same time, you invited us here. To what end?" The Butcher offered no answer. Instead, he began thinking to himself and turning about idly in place. As he did, his usual cross-marked sack dangled from his shoulder. Then he began humming a strange tune. "Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho, my meats are the finest meats around! Filled with love and bravery, they'll never let you down! Eat them and your courage will increase one millionfold! As always, I'm your friendly neighborhood Butcher! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!" *** Kaito shuddered in spite of himself. The Butcher was acting the same as always. Given their current situation, only madness could account for that. And at the same time, a sort of melancholy struck him as well. It was the kind of pathos one would feel toward a clown atop a stage, the kind of pity one felt toward those who had no choice but to play the part of the comic. Could it be that none of us has ever known the Butcher for who he really is? "To the contrary, Mr. Dim-Witted Servant!" Kaito's gaze had apparently been enough to convey his sentiment, as the Butcher hopped up and down in protest. When he finally landed, he thrust his finger straight toward Kaito. "I'm overfond of tall tales, it's true, but never once have I told a lie! Thank you very much! Okay, well, there's a small chance that I might have exaggerated a bit from time to time, and I might have told a lie here and there, but... Ahem. But the kind, adorable, lovable Butcher you've all come to know and love is the real deal! It merely...wasn't all there was to me." "Truth, lies, they make little difference. The point where such things mattered has long since passed." Elisabeth offered no reaction to the gloomier words the Butcher had ended his speech with. She stepped forward, as though to demonstrate how fed up she was. Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal glittered in her hand. "Now, I've but one question for you. Where is the Saint?" With each step she took forward, the Butcher took one back. The heel of his foot struck a hard, frozen snowflake. It slid backward a smidgen, then was soundlessly swallowed up by the darkness. The Butcher had nowhere left to run. Elisabeth thrust Executioner's Sword of Frankenthal toward him, then continued pressing him for answers. "Talk. We've come to kill her. All the way here to the World's End." "And how well you've done to make it here. Ah, the efficiency of your questions...how very like you, Madam Elisabeth." "You'd do well to understand this, Butcher: The time for buffoonery is over." Elisabeth's calm retort shut the Butcher down. His glib remarks came to a complete stop. Tilting his head a smidgen to the side, the Butcher let out a docile murmur. "...It's over, is it?" "We are those who know what goes on behind the stage. Never again can we return to the audience. Not even you would keep performing to no end, I suspect. Isn't it about time to put an end to this farce?" Elisabeth laid out her question dispassionately. But deep in her voice was a faint hint of sympathy, a fact that caused Kaito no small amount of shock. Hearing Elisabeth show sentiment toward an enemy was a rarity among rarities. Maybe...maybe Elisabeth appreciates where he's coming from. Like a faithful jester, the Butcher had continued playing out his role. But perhaps he wasn't the only one who'd chosen to become something instead of just being someone. As he stood before the Torture Princess, the Butcher gently scratched his chin. "I see, I see. Time to close up shop, is it? Yes, well, I suppose it is." "It is, isn't it? And in following, enough playing around. Tell us what your duty was." "In that case, allow me to start by sharing a serious little anecdote with you." "Very well. Speak." Still training her sword on him, Elisabeth jerked her chin. The Butcher nodded, then gave a bow. Then, as though he were laying his heart bare, he began narrating. "Did you know, Madam Elisabeth? Fairy tales are always born from the smallest of things." "More of your tall tales, even now?" "Destiny is much the same way, you see... The very shortest of memories can come to define a man's whole life." Although his story seemed to have little to do with their current situation, the Butcher persisted in telling it. Serious to the last, he spoke his truth. His voice sounded strangely old and hoarse, and his tone was firm and inflexible. Although he should have already known it, Kaito realized something all over again. The Butcher is the Saint's Apostle. In other words, he'd been alive since before the world had even finished forming. In a sense, he was literally the oldest person in existence. He'd lived for far too long for the word lifetime to even begin to cover it. In spite of that, though, the age of the memory he was laying out hadn't worn it away in the slightest. "Madam Elisabeth, do you have memories of your mother?" Elisabeth replied with silence. Kaito suddenly thought back on the facts he knew. Elisabeth's parents had died in an "unfortunate accident." Right before it, though, there had been sightings of a massive black dog. The Butcher peeked around behind Elisabeth. His gaze landed on Kaito and Hina. "Mr. Dim-Witted Servant and Ms. Lovely Maid, what about...? No, I suppose not. My apologies. Whether or not one has such memories varies from person to person. It's neither a good thing nor a bad one. But I...I have them. Not that she could truly be called my mother, that is." "You mean...?" "The moment I attained consciousness in her arms, the very first things I saw... Over the course of my long, long life, not once have I ever forgotten that memory. Not once could I forget that memory." The Butcher's voice was calm and quiet. Kaito sucked in his breath. The person who created him was the Saint. When he spoke about her, his tone remained light, but his voice grew weighty. Contained within it were hatred; grief; a vast, untarnished amount of love; and a frightening amount of passion and emotion. The scant few decades of a human's life could never even come close to attaining such sentiment, nor were they sufficient in understanding such a feeling. The only thing capable of swallowing up the Butcher's emotions was the crystal-clear air. At long last, Kaito realized somethingâ€”why the snow had stopped and why the wind wasn't blowing. The world is waiting for the Apostle to tell his story. "In the end, I was but a single seed of evil. A pawn without even a name to his name. And I've understood that fact for a long, long time." The Butcher took a deep breath, then exhaled. He clutched at his tattered clothes. Then he went on, forcing the words out of his throat. "But I saw that smile... I saw that smile." Just what was he saying about that expression he'd seen? He spoke with alarming speed as he elaborated on his answer. "It was the smile of one who had, for the first time, obtained a companion in a desolate, lonely world. It was the desperate smile of one whose absolute solitude had been broken. In that moment, she greeted me with unmistakable love. That smile was more than enough to prove that to me. And...through her tears, she spoke..." Then, just for a moment, the Butcher trailed off. When he spoke again, it was in a voice steeped with nostalgia for a time long gone by, or perhaps one filled with the exhaustion of countless ages. "'Thank you for being born unto me,' she said. That was all. And that was enough." In his entire monologue, not once had he explained why he'd sold the demon meat. At the same time, though, it was more than sufficient as a confession of motive. Because he'd heard those words, the Butcher had carried out the Saint's mad wish. Despite knowing that it would destroy the world, he had taken the demon meat, and he had sold it. Kaito narrowed his eyes. The Saint's words to the Butcher had been a blessing, one filled with joy and gratitude. At the end of the day, though, he'd spent his whole life bound by them, and they'd turned him into the entire world's enemy. In that sense, weren't they more like a curse, then? Kaito was about to say as much aloud, but he stopped himself. The Butcher didn't need to be told that. He knew. Yet, even so, those few words of hers had given his whole life meaning. If they hadn't, he would have stopped walking down this path long ago. He had ascended past the point where regrets were still relevant. Suddenly, the Butcher took a small breath. Then he set down the white bag on his back. When he did, it made a small sound. Having cast aside the goods he'd carried around for so long, he spoke in a whimsical voice. "I had fun, Madam Elisabeth, Mr. Dim-Witted Servant, Ms. Lovely Maid, really, truly, and deeply. The living cannot live without finding enjoyment in their days. And when I watched you all fight back, my, how radiant you looked. Yet... Yet, knowing full well how mad it is, there is a request I need to fulfill." For that shall be the evidence of my existence, the sole proof of my love for her. As Kaito listened to the Butcher's cryptic declaration, a certain quote resounded within his chest. It's a nonsensical little fairy tale, and one that's gone on for a very, very long time. Was the story a tragedy or a comedy? Kaito and the others had no way of knowing. And how is the Butcher planning on bringing it to an end? What was the mad request he was trying to fulfill? Elisabeth shifted her sword vertically a hair. She asked her next question in a voice fully devoid of emotion. "So? Where is this dear Saint of yours?" "Madam Elisabeth, it brought me such joy when you saw fit to voice how delicious something was. Mr. Dim-Witted Servant... No, Mr. Kaito. The fact that you, a mere human, made it this far on conviction alone is something to be proud of. Ms. Lovely Maid...Ms. Hina. Thank you for preparing my meats so exquisitely. And congratulations on your wedding." The Butcher's voice was light as he obstinately ignored Elisabeth's question. Her irritation was about to show on her face, but at the last moment, the corners of Elisabeth's mouth froze. Kaito and Hina rapidly went pale as well. Lute looked around restlessly. Jeanne offered no response. Of all the people present, those who knew the Butcher well were the only ones who realized. Kaito and Hina took off at a dash. Elisabeth reached out with her sword-free hand. "Butcher, no!" "The time has come to close up shop. This marks my final task as a merchant: delivering meat." The Butcher didn't, in fact, stop, instead taking off at a dash himself. The way he ran wasn't forward but backward. Yet, nothing lay there except darkness. "I said so, did I not? The fairy tale must come to an end." Kaito's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. Just as he'd thought, the last thing the Butcher had said had been his final testament. "Tch!" Elisabeth snapped her fingers. Having seen that her arm wouldn't reach far enough, she summoned forth a vortex of crimson