the empty building as a temporary base. And when they did, they'd brought something with them. But what? The grim premonition grew stronger and stronger. A sudden conviction welled up in Elisabeth. These doors would be best left unopened. The barrier between this side of the door and the other side was concealing a sight that must not be seen. However, she couldn't simply ignore it. Averting your eyes from an ugly truth did nothing to change its veracity. Eventually, it would catch up with you all the same. And when it did, it would pierce you through the back. The sole potential problem was... As I am now, how much will the contents of the other side affect me? It was a worry that the old Elisabeth would never have felt. If someone else had mentioned it to her, she'd have snorted at them. After all, she was the Torture Princess. She'd borne witness to innumerable tragedies. She hadn't just seen the First Demon; she'd had her body bound to its pillar's core. By all rights, she was on the side that created hells. Why, Elisabeth had once drowned an entire town in pain and despair, basking in its people's hateful cries like they were cheers of admiration. Loathsome Elisabeth, repulsive Elisabeth, cruel, hideous Elisabeth! A curse upon you, a curse upon you, a curse, a curse, an eternal curse upon you, Elisabeth! What was there that could still surprise her? But boasting she could take it all in, no matter what it might be, would be base carelessness. She was a different person than she'd been before the end of days. Every assumption and preconception she'd had had been violently overturned. It was difficult to predict what kinds of things would shock her now. Of all the things left in this world... Could she really witness any of them and feel no despair? Not even she could say with any certainty. Yet despite that, the Torture Princess reached out and slowly pushed the doors open. Then she saw them. With her own two eyes. The white wombsâ€” â€”strewed about the room. They were smoothâ€” â€”the wombsâ€” like freshly peeled eggs. The wombs were round and horribly bloated. Stretched taut, they were smooth and sleek. They were clearly nothing more than sacks of flesh. However, they were more than just sacks. Each one had a little navel resting on its peak, and they were just barely covered in living skin. In other words, they were people, though they'd expanded in ways no living person's body should grow. Some of the wombs were female. Some were male. But they were all just flesh. They were sacks of flesh. Yet they were wombs. "I...see." After confirming what was on the other side of the door, Elisabeth let out a succinct murmur. The scene laid out before her was a good deal more graphic and repulsive than she'd expected. That wasn't to say it was overly nightmarish, though. It was simply a different kind of tragedy than the ones demons were partial to. That was her rough appraisal of the situation. As a matter of fact, Elisabeth had seen something like this before. The specifics had varied greatly, but the impression she'd gotten was one and the same. Some time ago, there'd been a case she'd been tasked with cracking. The victims, all mixed-race children, had had their beastfolk ears torn off and the fur flayed from their skulls. And despite his head being reduced to little more than a lump of muscle fibers, one boy had even survived the process. Compared with what demons did, this was child's play. But it was still so monstrous that it was hard to imagine a person having carried it out. 'Twas much the same as this. "You're not the same as me. You're different from us. We're completely different creatures. That means I can do whatever I want to you." Without that vile rationalization some people had come to, no person could create a spectacle that grisly. Elisabeth glanced over the banquet hall again. The inside was completely empty. The room was set up to be easy to rearrange on account of the various events that took place there, but now even the bare minimum of furniture it was normally adorned with had been removed. All that existed there were the wombs. Or rather, all that "lived" there were the people. Adult women, adult men, old women, old men, young women, and young men were rolling about the hall. However, it was arguable as to whether or not it even made sense to still call them people. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to call them "round, bloated wombs with human limbs and heads attached to them." That was how thoroughly the victims had been transfigured. The wombs were blown up like eggs, far past the point a human body should have been able to distend. All of them were naked, and their genitals were in plain view. Compared with the wombs' expansion, though, that seemed hardly worth mentioning. Their thighs were stained with excrement and amniotic fluid. Although these poor creatures clearly weren't being cared for, their undersized feet all had numbers carved into them, like the branding marks you'd see on cuts of meat being stored in warehouses. They looked like ID numbers. They might not have been receiving care, but they were clearly being monitored, at the very least. For how the scene was, it seemed almost industrial. Every action that had been taken leading up to that point had been utterly amoral. True, though. 'Tis surely convenient to be able to leave them lying about like that. Makes them easy to transport, too. Elisabeth took a second to think about how they'd been brought there. She nodded dispassionately. As she did, she also ruminated on Lewis's words. "I summoned a pair of weaker demons into a man and a woman, then destroyed both their egos. They had two children. Then I bred the children together..." That all falls under the purview of those whose human forms have collapsed and degraded. But then... ...What about the subsequent steps? Demon grandchildren were able to breed with humans. Lewis had said so himself. The things rolling about on the ground must have been the fruits of that research. Based on what Alice had said, women were better suited to the task. If you weren't concerned with quality, though, people of any age or sex could serve as "mothers." After all, the demon grandchildren that served as "fathers" were barely human to begin with. Their version of copulation probably took cues from their human instincts, but the act itself was closer to a magic ritual. In short, whether or not the other party had genitals was of little concern. That said, there seemed to be some variation in the victims' swelling, irrespective of their sex. It was revolting, but at the same time, highly intriguing. Elisabeth thought some more. Lewis wanted me to breed with demon grandchildren and have two babies. In short, he judged that the first birth wouldn't be life-threatening. Even though the conception method looked more than deadly. But Alice hadn't seemed like she was lying, either. She really did plan on reuniting Elisabeth with Kaito Sena. Between her and Lewis's reactions, a reasonable assumption would be that powerful mages didn't go through the physical deformations. And the correlation between the victims' swelling and the amount of mana they had supported that thesis. 'Twould seem the babies consume their host's mana as nutrients. However, that gave rise to a new question. Why did the "mothers" who didn't have enough mana swell up? But the answer to that was simple. When the babies couldn't get their nutrients from mana, they hastened their growth so they could use something else instead. After growing until they had teeth, they feasted on their mothers' flesh and organs. And that was no mere theory; it was being proven by the moment. The sound of chewing was audibly coming from inside the wombs. As the sloppy noises grew louder, the mothers began silently flailing their limbs about. They couldn't even open their mouths to scream. However, the laughing, crying voices continued. The voices weren't coming from the mothers. They were coming from the unborn babies. The fetuses knew nothing of their mothers' wills. Yet they danced all the same. At that point, Elisabeth stopped pondering and closed her eyes. Amid the darkness, she quickly sorted through the many things she'd seen and heard on her journey to reach those double doors. The mixed-race folk tried once to pardon their long history of oppression. But then the end of days came, and in the mayhem, the slaughters took placeâ€”tragedies senseless enough to make civil officials vomit. And after that, they continued. A boy had the flesh flayed from his head while he yet lived, and similar events were a frequent occurrence. If any of those things hadn't happened, the scene before her probably wouldn't have come to be. But they all had. Time marched mercilessly forward, leaving mistakes perpetually unatoned for in its wake. As a result, the mixed-race folk chose to cast off their role as innocent victims. Proclaiming oneself weak in order to oppress others was unforgivable. Yet even if they knew they wouldn't be forgiven, they would no doubt continue down their path. That was what it meant to be an avenger. The world's unrelenting malice and apathy had forged them into that. Those who take are taken from in turn. Ultimately, the mixed-race folk were even stripped of their humanity. That was simply the way things were. That was the sad, sad way things were. Elisabeth's silky black hair swayed as she turned to the side and looked up at La Christoph. "What do you intend to do?" she silently asked him. His response was a dignified nod. Then he solemnly spread his bound arms wide. A metallic, alien clank echoed out as the thick chains fell to the floor. Bloody amniotic fluid splashed around them. La Christoph had cast off his restraints. His crossed arms were parted, and his chest was laid bare. Most saints had undergone changes to their bodies and minds that would normally be impossible, and La Christoph was no exception. All the flesh surrounding his ribs had been shorn away, and he had no lungs or internal organs to speak of. Instead, his ribs were filled with little birds, which were made out of light and resembled skylarks. They were sacred beasts. Overuse of his powers during Ragnarok had left his ribs stuck open, but now they were healed and serving their purpose as a cage once more. He was the Birdkeeper, and he was a "living birdcage." That was La Christoph's nature. And when the Modest Birdkeeper undid his chains, it could only mean one thing. Elisabeth quietly posed a question to him. "So you agree, too, that there can be no other end to this?" "I've already confirmed it. The creatures nesting in their wombs possess amounts of mana no normal human could bear. Even the ones who have not swelled up as much are in a similar state. Their organs are destroyed, and their hearts have all stopped. However..." "In spite of all that, their bodies are alive... Their sensesâ€”particularly their sense of painâ€”are intact, I take it?" "Demons seek pain. And demon children are no different. It's a cruel situation. At this point, their only options are to die giving birth and to die without giving birth. Thus, the question becomes what the merciful thing to do is, and for that, I defer to scripture and my own faith." La Christoph made his declaration without hesitation. His voice was cold and resolute. "I shall grant you salvation, O wretched ones. For who but a saint to bear the burden of purifying you?" Elisabeth offered no response. In a rare turn of events, there was nothing