extremely worldly problem to have, but it was a grave one nonetheless. They turned to the aristocrats, the Church, and the mercantile guilds for help, but they were met with harsh criticism each time. As was rightly pointed out, many peopleâ€”faithful or notâ€”had responded to the tremendous damage from the repeated demon attacks by endorsing the reconstruction sect's particular brand of "salvation." As a result, the Capital found itself forced to remain put. Their boon was the beastfolk's offer of temporary lodgings, technical assistance, and food in exchange for deploying some mages to their lands. From a national-security standpoint, though, having the king stay in that temporary housing wasn't an option. And having the royal family and key aristocrats living away from the Capital would give rise to a whole host of issues. But given their financial situation, it didn't look like they had much of a choice. Then after countless meetings, someone proposed using the royal graveyard. It was a last-ditch Hail Mary borne out of sheer desperation. However, a cursory investigation revealed that this insane proposition might not be so insane after all. While its barrier was broken and it certainly didn't hold a candle to the World Tree, the underground tomb was surprisingly easy to defend. In fact, while the Faithful Kingâ€”mankind's third king, and the one who'd given the Grave Keeper her authorityâ€”had concealed the documents asserting as such, they also learned that the graveyard had originally been designed to serve double duty as an emergency shelter for the royal family. Then they discovered and unsealed the tomb's myriad escape routes, functional bedrooms, and spirit-powered cistern and water supply. While it was a problem that the material the building was constructed from prevented teleportation, they were able to catch the mages before they left and have them work together with the saints to analyze it. After a long series of heated arguments between the two groups, they successfully set up a number of spots where teleportation was possible. At that point, the only problem left was what to do with the old kings' bodies. However, they'd just forcibly cremated piles and piles and piles of commoners, and the shock of it all had shifted their ethics regarding corpses. As far as they were concerned, the dead were all the same, royalty be damned. And thus, they cleaned out the mausoleums and moved all the bodies. After sealing up the Room of Pain, which the First Demon had been kept in, they installed an altar in front of it and placed the coffins in a row atop it. They then closed off the graveyard's lowest floor, with an exception made for royalty coming down to pay their respects, and moved into the upper floors in earnest. No shortage of people reported seeing a displeased-looking ghost of the third king, but in Elisabeth's view, such reports were utterly beneath her interest. At the moment, her sole concern was meeting up with the communication device's sender. "Now then... Where in all this clamor might I find the one who called for the Torture Princess?" "Madam Elisabeth!" The moment she made to stride off, though, she heard a dignified voice call out to her from behind. Elisabeth turned and glanced through the throng. The first thing she saw was a beautiful head of silver hair. Shortly thereafter, though, it was followed by a number of peculiarities. The paladin's pale cheeks had gears spinning in them, and various parts of her body had been supplemented with strange pieces of metal. Her tied-up silver hair fluttered as she walked over to Elisabeth. "Thank goodness, you responded to our summons." "You called, Izabella, so here I am." Elisabeth replied dispassionately, and the woman gave her a smile. It was stiff due to the metal plates, but gentle nonetheless. Elisabeth responded by raising the corner of her mouth ever so slightly. The woman's name was Izabella Vicker. She was the leader of the paladins, and she'd fought alongside Kaito Sena during Ragnarok. Thanks to her fusion with Deus Ex Machina, her appearance hadn't changed much over the past three years. However, the white-lily coat of arms on her armor was stained black with blood. "I see... From the state of your armor, I take it the news of the Capital being attacked was true." "Indeed. We wouldn't call for you as a mere prank. Still, you did well to respond to such a vague summons. Once more, you have my thanks." "So why in the blazes was it so vague?" "Several of the civil officials panicked, and the one in charge of communications sent the dispatch without waiting for my go-ahead. I'm sure you found the hasty missive alarming, and for that, I am sorry." Elisabeth nodded in understanding as Izabella apologized. It certainly seemed like enough of a situation had arisen to cause such a panic. However, she then planted her hands on her hips. "So is time of the essence, or is it not? If it isn't, I ask that you let me return to my squad. I may not be fit to serve as a captain, but I took the role, so I intend to fulfill my duties to the best of my ability." "Unfortunately, it very much is. This way." As Elisabeth followed Izabella through the underground graveyard, she glanced around the corridor. The place looked completely different than it had three years ago, when she'd come to learn the truth of the world. The Capital residents had taken full advantage of the mausoleums' original construction to turn them into living quarters and offices, and for better or for worse, none of the tomb's original solemnity and sanctity remained. For one, much of the building was decorated with plants they'd gotten as gifts from the beastfolk. The glowing moss, flowers, and wind-current-producing leaves both ventilated the graveyard and regulated its light and humidity. These amenities helped reduce the sense of claustrophobia immensely. As Izabella and Elisabeth went through the passageway, they passed by people of all sorts and statuses. There were young maids strolling adorably, dukes and ladies walking annoyedly, and paladins marching with wide strides. Due to the way the tomb was laid out, it was impossible to fully segregate the rooms for people with different roles. They were making do with what they had. Thanks to that, people of all social classes were forced to mingle. It was an odd sight to see in the Capital, and a fairly amusing one at that. And I imagine the current commotion is only making things messier. As that idle thought crossed her mind, Elisabeth continued descending the seemingly endless stairs. Originally, even the paladins had been lied to and told the tomb only had five floors. Because of that, the sixth floor had no mausoleum, which meant they could use its full space as they pleased. At the moment, several rooms designed for specific purposes had been built inside it. Izabella approached one of them, then knocked on its conspicuously plain door and spoke. "It's me. I've brought Madam Elisabeth." "Oh? I hadn't expected you to get here so quickly, little lady. I figured you were fucking off in the sunshine like a retired watchdog, but I guess I was wrong." She was met with a strange tone. Elisabeth would have almost considered it nostalgic if not for how tired she'd grown of it. Izabella opened the door, and Elisabeth followed her in. The walls inside were piled high with shelves full of documents, and the room's floor was bare, with no carpet or rug covering up the rare minerals it was made from. All in all, it was extremely cramped. It looked more like a storehouse than a proper room, and the piÃ¨ce de rÃ©sistance was the boorish stone desk plopped right in the center. The person who'd spoken so rudely was standing before it. In contrast to her tone, she was an adorable girl with doll-like features. Her hair was honey-blond, her eyes were like rosy jewels, and her skin was as white as porcelain. She was wearing a bondage dress, although it only qualified as "clothes" in the very loosest sense of the word. It was exactly who Elisabeth had been expecting. The girl's expression didn't change in the slightest as she welcomed Elisabeth. "Greetings and salutations, little lady. They say, I'll see you in Hell, and whaddaya know, here we are." Waiting for her was Jeanne de Rais, the golden Torture Princess. Hmph. For a reunion, it wasn't a particularly nostalgic one. Elisabeth and Jeanne had seen quite a lot of each other over the past three years. Now that Elisabeth was looking at her head-on, though, she was once more reminded of a certain fact. Jeanne had grown a little. Her shapely limbs were now even longer, and when she stood still, she could have passed for a piece of fine art in a museum. Compared with other girls her age, though, she was growing up rather slowly. As long as they didn't get as old as Godd Deos had, skilled mages could more or less stop their aging at will. It was unclear why, but Jeanne was choosing to have her body develop slowly. Unlike her physical development, however, her sharp tongue hadn't been dulled in the slightest. "What's wrong? You've been staring quite intently at me for some time. We last met not that long ago, remember? Didja hit your head or somethin'?" "Aye, true, that we did. But who would've thought the situation would grow so incomprehensible in just those few short hours? Not I, certainly." "Oh, I very much agree. Having the Capital come under attack right after I returned caught me rather off guard. Like, fuck that, man! Feels like I'm livin' in a bad play. The script is shit! This writer's a hack!" This time, Jeanne gave a reasonably frank nod. Earlier, when night had yet to fall completely, she'd been over in the beastfolk lands herself. Incidentally, she'd come because she'd been worried about her relationship with Izabella. Then after rambling on mostly one-sidedly, she'd returned to the Capital. The tragedy with Vyade had occurred almost immediately thereafter. In other words, the attack on the Capital must have gone down at the exact same time. If Jeanne had stayed even a little bit longer, she'd have ended up facing off against the man in black. The golden Torture Princess's honey-blond hair swished as she shrugged. "The Capital's been peaceful these past three years. Our enemies must be quite proficient, not to have tipped their hands even once. I figure shit got crazy on your end, too. What's the sitch?" "Your intuition is correct. Izabella. You ought to hear this, too. I have grave tidings... No, wait, before that." Nothing was more important than giving her report about the imperial princesses' deaths. But even though she knew that, Elisabeth cut herself off anyway. She strode briskly over to the desk and glared at what was sitting atop it. "What is this?" The "this" in question resembled a baby. However, it also looked like just a plain old lump of meat, or perhaps a sculpture made out of clay. While it was clearly some sort of corpse, it was also difficult to imagine it ever having been alive. Jeanne, her back to the horrifying, loathsome object, replied flatly. "You should know better than anyone, shouldn't you, lady? Hell, don't tell me ya forgot already! You merc'd one of these fuckers yourself!" It was trueâ€”Elisabeth did recognize it. She'd seen one herself, back before the end of days when the Monarch, the Grand Monarch, and the King merged into a single mass of flesh and swallowed up the Capital. At the end of that battle, she and Kaito had had to face off against the exact same creature inside the fleshy monstrosity. They'd faced off against a grotesque, ashen baby. "A demon child, eh?" The King and the Grand Monarch's contractors