have the luxury of worrying about what would happen afterward. The sad truth of the matter was that they were woefully short on manpower. Sometimes, the only thing that could defeat evil was a different brand of evil. The Torture Princess was evil; there was no doubt about that. But there were realms of evil not even she had transgressed. Elisabeth gave in and accepted the idea that had flitted through her mind. "Well, if I must, I must. I'm off. As I said earlier, referencing Kaito's thought process will provide us no help in the slightest. However, there's another individual who may have some insight into our situation." "You think they can help? Who is it, might I ask?" "Oh my, how unusual. You would visit the Harlequin of your own accord? Damn, now there's a sign of the apocalypse if ever I saw one!" Maclaeus reacted with curiosity, and Jeanne let out a perversely amused cry. Then catching herself, she clamped her mouth shut and glanced timidly at Izabella. Fortunately for her, though, Izabella was busy trying to figure out who Elisabeth was talking about. "Whew, thank goodness," Jeanne murmured. After glancing over at Jeanne, who was playing the part of the henpecked spouse, Elisabeth stood up. She snapped her fingers and dispelled her chair. Darkness and crimson flower petals whirled up as she gave her answer. "He Who Rears Hell Within His Mind." It was a name given to the man in question by the Kaiser, the most powerful of the fourteen demons. Maclaeus must have been familiar with it, as he immediately gulped. Izabella's eyes went wide. Jeanne curled her lips ever so slightly. Elisabeth then finished her reluctant proclamation. "I'm going to see Vlad Le Fanu." 4 The New Grave Keeper I have to write I'm sorry. It sounds so very easy, but it's oh-so-very hard. The fingers on my right hand got broken, you see, and because of how they knit, I can't bend them very well anymore. They're twisted all funny. And because he peeled my fingernails off, the blood drops get in the way. The cigarette burns hurt, too. My elbows are all swollen, so I can't feel them anymore, but that only makes it scarier. And my tummy is empty, so my body doesn't move the way I want it to. It hurts just holding the pen. But I'm a bad girl, so none of that matters. I'm a "little shit" who "doesn't know how the world works," so I have to "whip my character into shape" "as fast as possible." I have to say I'm sorry. I have to write it over and over and over. Until they forgive me. But I'm not really sure how to apologize any better. It doesn't look like there's anyone left in the whole wide world who doesn't think I'm bad. But if that's the case, then it must mean I've been very, very bad for my whole entire life. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That's right, I have to apologize. I have to keep writing it. Even if the paper gets covered in blood. Even if no one forgives me. But now I don't have anything to write on. I'm sorry, me. I'm sorry, Sara. I'm, sor, ry. "I...should have never...been born." And that's whyI became Alice. The man who had burned to death had risen from the ashes. However, that wasn't to say he'd come back to life. The current Vlad was nothing more than a degraded replica of his soul, which he'd created while he was still alive. Then Kaito Sena had taken that replica and moved it from its jewel home to an artificial body. Even if he hadn't been truly revived, though, any version of Vlad that could move on its own power was a threat to the three races. After all, he was the man who'd led the fourteen demons and created the Torture Princess. Degraded as he was, his very existence was the embodiment of hell itself. However, the fact remained that he'd played a key role in saving the world. Without him on their side, defending the World Tree would have been a major challenge. As a result, opinions were mixed on what to do with him after Kaito Sena passed. Getting rid of someone they could still use seemed premature, and the self-destruct device Kaito Sena had installed in Vlad's head was still in good working order. Furthermore, the man himself claimed he no longer bore any hostility toward mankind. "Why did I form a contract with the Kaiser and lead the other thirteen demons on a quest for world domination? I mean, you can call the dream childish, but wasn't it oh-so-splendidly evil? Come now, what kind of villain sees a chance to turn the world on its head and doesn't take it? ...But the living 'me' failed. I'm certainly not immature enough to reattempt a challenge I failed at in my prime, considering my current state. And honestly, I've grown tired of the riffraff anyway. Hmm... You, though, I'm prepared to make an exception for. Tell me, have you ever considered dabbling in dark magic?" The above was Vlad's testimony from his interview with La Christoph. Afterward, the Church had decided to leave him "alive." They claimed it was out of respect for Kaito Sena's wishes, but in truth, there was a much more important reasonâ€”one that was kept a closely guarded secret from all but a select few. Either way, though, the fact of the matter was that Vlad was permitted to continue existing. However, he was the kind of person who couldn't help but incite malice in others. Leaving him to his own devices was a recipe for disaster. So as a compromise, it was unanimously decided that Vlad would be imprisoned. Unless an emergency arose, never again would he see the light of the sun or the twinkle of the stars. However, he never once complained about his treatment. After being confined, he simply took quietly to his new job. "Here, was it?" And now in the present, Elisabeth was visiting his place of incarceration. "...Hmm. 'Tis been some time since I was here last." Elisabeth struck a daunting pose with her arms crossed. A very tall door loomed before her. Long ago, it had been covered with a dangerous barrier that would annihilate any who touched it. Jeanne had dispelled that barrier, leaving the door unprotected, but it had later been replaced with a less destructive version to prevent anyone from entering. With Izabella and Maclaeus's permission, Elisabeth had retrieved the new barrier's key. She inserted it into the opening, and when she turned it, the barrier weakened. When it did, the door swung open with a horrible scream-like creeeeeeeeeeak. A rush of cold air billowed up to meet Elisabeth as she strode inside. She looked around. Much like the rest of the graveyard, the room looked nothing like its former self. Before, its walls had been covered with ominous feelers on account of the half-white owl, half-pink mass of flesh it had housed. Elisabeth had heard that Izabella had been instrumental in getting the room's grotesque gatekeeper, as well as the victims' corpses from the Room of Pain beyond, interred in a well-ventilated mass grave. Now, though, the walls of the room created by the Saint were empty of feelers. Their smooth curves, free of joints and seams, were in full view. The room was lit by a number of crystals hanging from its hemispheric ceiling, their gentle flickering reminiscent of a riverbed. One of the walls so lit was home to an amazingly well-crafted carving of the Saint. She was cradling a lump of flesh swaddled in cloth, and her demi-human attendant stood beside her. Elisabeth let her gaze linger on this attendant. But no matter how long she stared, the carving remained still, and his expression remained hidden beneath his hood. A few seconds later, Elisabeth looked away. Then as though nothing had happened, she looked toward the center of the room. Coffins belonging to kings of old were lined up one after another atop the wide floor, and there was a single man sitting among the procession of departed royalty. He was seated atop a luxurious chair and reading his book as if he were the very picture of elegance. He appeared to be alive, yet he seemed oddly accustomed to the deathly silence that surrounded him. He carefully turned the white page over. Then all of a sudden, he snapped his book shut. A dry noise echoed out from its leather cover. As the book itself transformed into darkness and azure flower petals, the man turned to face her. "Why hello there, precious daughter of mine. What brings you to this tomb of kings, which holds but death, silence, tedium, and this lone sinner?" His description of the place was accurate. After the kings' corpses were interred there, the chamber before the Room of Pain at the bottom of the royal graveyard was sealed off. And after being locked away with the dead, Vlad had been given the task of watching over them. In short, Vlad Le Fanu had been assigned as the new Grave Keeper. If his late predecessor heard of that, the conniptions she'd have might well have proven fatal... No, given that girl, she'd probably just have smiled, then proceeded to wring Vlad's head from his neck. An idle thought passed through Elisabeth's mind, accompanied by no small amount of exasperation. The girl who'd preceded Vlad had been so pious, it had warped her irredeemably. Taking that fact into account, the succession was ironic in the extreme. However, the new Grave Keeper's role differed greatly from that of previous generations. The First Demon was gone from the tomb, and there was no secret left to hide. At the moment, the Grave Keeper's job was literally just thatâ€”to keep the graves. And thus, Vlad kept an attentive eye out for grave robbers while watching over the dead kings' slumberâ€”which was a roundabout way of saying he spent his days immersed in books. Annoying as it was, he lived a rather refined life for a man in confinement. And as always, he lacked not just piety, but any respect for God whatsoever. Instead of praying for the dead, he was more likely merely to point at them and whisper, Why, just look at this sad sack of rotting flesh and bone. As far as Vlad was concerned, corpses were just objects, and God was just a phenomenon. Elisabeth was inclined to agree with him on both points. Their value systems were actually fairly similar, but she also held a grudge against him so intense that no amount of torturing him would get it out of her system. That said, she, too, was a criminal, and she had no intention of going against the Church's decision and killing him. Instead, she'd decided never to interact with him again. Due to their present unforeseen circumstances, however, she had no choice but to give up on that plan. She opened her mouth, wanting to finish her business and be out of there as soon as possible. "The human Capital and the second imperial beastfolk princess's residence were attacked by a group using demon grandchildren and someone claiming to be a Torture Princess from another world. Of the assailants, one had a way of thinking that much resembled yours. I'm here to seek your counsel." "Oh my, my precious daughter, relying on me for help? This assailant must have been quite a scintillating fellow indeed." Vlad nodded several times, then stood. He gave his fingers an elegant snap, and his chair swirled up into a whirl of azure flower petals and darkness. Vlad, at the vivid, shadowy vortex's center, looked up at the ceiling with a face full of emotion. "Three years, though? That's a good deal faster than I expected." Predictably, he bore