Someone. Back then, I already had the outline of the Saint's story laid out, so I wanted to make sure these sections were set up such that it would all make sense later down the line. Finally getting to finish her Message came as a big relief. Now you have the full picture on what she thought and felt. I hope that someday, we'll get a chance to see her again. The Parent and the Child, or Perhaps the Enemies of the World Originally, this story wasn't part of the manuscript at all. Because of how the page count on the compiled short stories worked out, though, the book ended up having a lot of blank pages. That was when my editor O suggested that I write a story about Alice and Lewis, and the rest is history. I was really happy to have the chance to touch on their lives in this compilation, and I hope you all get a chance to read through it before you move onto Volume 8. In the end, it made me really happy to get to show off so many different aspects of Torture Princess here. I will note that the beastfolk didn't get much of a chance to appear this time, nor did the saints, so ideally, there'll be an opportunity to tell more of their stories in the future. For now, though, this intermission has reached its end, so I hope you all look forward to the main story continuing in the next volume. Finally, as usual, we move on to the acknowledgments section. I'd like to thank Saki Ukai, for the gorgeous cover and in particular for being able to fit so many characters on it; my editor O, for everything as always; Hina Yamato, for delivering a manga adaptation packed so full of love; everyone else involved in the series; and my beloved family, in particular my older sister. Thank you all so very much. And above all else, I'd like to give a heartfelt thank-you to every reader who picked up Volume 7.5. Next up is Volume 8. After I finished Volume 7, I could tell that the rest of the plot was going to be even more dense and detailed. Putting everything down on paper is going to be a challenge, but I'll do my best to get it right. If you don't mind, it would mean the world to me if you continue following along and watch the characters confront their destinies. "And yet even so," she said. And now it all begins. A Publicity Stunt The room was red. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were all dyed the color of fresh blood. It was the kind of scene that burrowed its way into your eyeballs and chipped away at your mind. After all, staying calm and levelheaded when your entire field of view was filled with crimson was no easy task. In contrast with its violent hue, however, the room itself was constructed in an exceedingly normal manner. Firewood was stacked beside its hearth, and it had a cupboard decorated with modest little ornaments. The room also had a plain, well-built desk, and atop it sat two teacups. Each was filled with milk tea. Suddenly, a pale hand holding a silver spoon reached out. Grains of sugar cascaded down from the spoon and sank into the piping hot beverage. There, in that red, crimson, scarlet roomâ€” â€”in that room that looked like a gaping wound gouged out of fleshâ€” â€”the two of them spent their days as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Here you are, Master Kaito. It's still hot, so do be careful." "Got it. Thanks, Hina." Kaito Sena nodded as he took the cup. His short hair's tied-back knot swayed as he took a sip. Sitting in the seat across from him was a beautiful maid. It was his eternal lover, his beloved automaton wife, Hina. Aside from their seats, the dining table also had a third chair. But that chair was empty. The vacuum it left was hollow and lonesome. Not only was the room itself perverse, it was also missing something important. However, they enjoyed their peaceful teatime all the same. But all of a sudden, that genial silence was shattered. A ghastly noise was ringing off in the distance. It was frail and shrill yet ominous all the same. It sounded like someone screaming or perhaps someone wailing in resentment. It was the sound of swords ringing, of flesh being eaten, of people being consumed, of crying, of screaming, and of all other noises combined. Hina turned her emerald eyes downward and let out a quiet murmur. "It's started...hasn't it?" "Yeah. It has." Kaito looked down at the faintly cloudy surface of his tea and nodded. However, even though he himself was the one who fended off the end of days, he didn't seem particularly surprised. He went on matter-of-factly. "I mean, I always knew it was going to happen. Every living creature is ignorant, every living creature is like a stupid animal, and every living creature is precious. And that's why they're worth protecting. But at the same time, it's also why they can never escape ruin. It's just the way they are... But still, just three years? That's crazy fast." "It is, but it seems the stone began rolling before the final battle even began." "Yeah. The question is, what's gonna happen now? The mixed-race folk are one thing, but the bigger problem is this new reincarnation. I dunno if she and her allies even realize that...or I guess I should say I dunno if they realize just how dangerous she is. 'This time, I'm going to accomplish everything I set out to do,' huh?" Kaito frowned. He himself was proof of the power of that sentiment. That "conception" possessed by those who met cruel deaths could form the basis for limitless magical growth. But what if there wasn't anything that the person in question wanted to accomplish? A hollow vessel had the power to change its shape at will. It was impossible to tell what it would give the world and what it would do. Would it love or would it hate? Would it be just or would it be evil? "In my case, I was filled with love. That much I know. But what even is justice? I'm still not sure." Back when he was alive, the Mad King obtained unrivaled power. Yet even so, he wasn't able to save everyone. He was aware of countless tragedies yet didn't reach out to prevent more than a scant few. And Kaito wasn't alone in that. The innocent begged for mercy, but nobody lent them an ear. Many committed horrible acts, and those who didn't merely stood by as spectators. Eventually, punishment always caught up with sin. Stupid sheep only saw what they wanted to see and only heard what they wanted to hear. Would they be granted salvation? Even just asking was completely shameless. In a world where God and Diablo actually existed, wishing for convenient miracles to occur was nothing short of comical. The living needed to learn their lesson already. Salvation wasn't coming. Eventually, all of them would die and the world along with them. That was the answer. Not a single person had the right to criticize the current rebellion. However, a single foolish person murmured, "Yet even so..." And now it was all beginning. "Yeah, Elisabeth, that's right... Yet even so..." Kaito didn't finish the rest. Now that he noticed, the noise was gone. Everything was quiet again. Of course, the room was completely sequestered from the outside world. It was distant from everything. It would be strange if anything were audible. The room was red. It had no windows. It had no doors. No one could leave. And no one could enter. It was almost like a graveyard. Or perhaps a prison. And in that place, that place where no one ought to be the two of them just sat. The sound of burning meat filled the air, as did the smell of charred flesh. Somewhere, people were burning. A bell rang off in the distance. The ground was hot, and the sky was black with smoke and ash. The land, the trees, the grassâ€”everything was burning. The water was bitter, and countless were dead. A single bird flew through the sky, crying loudly as it went. A slender man gazed up at it. The hem of his black, aristocratic coat swayed as he murmured. "'A calamity cometh. A calamity cometh. To all the people of the land. The coming messenger aims to blow the bugle of the end.' ...Or something to that effect, I imagine. It does resemble the second coming of the end of days, though, doesn't it?" "Still thy tongue, Vlad. If you wish to wax poetic about tragedy, then go become a wandering minstrel or something." Someone standing behind Vlad shot him a biting remark. However, Vlad offered no response. He just kept gazing upward. Hard footsteps echoed out as the other speaker approached from behind. Her black hair and the hem of her lascivious bondage dress fluttered behind the beautiful woman when she came to a halt. She looked up as well, her crimson gaze cutting through the ashen wind. Then the Torture Princessâ€”Elisabeth Le Fanuâ€”spoke. "At the moment, we've no messenger, no God, no Diablo. Just a fat lot of survivors from the end of days trying to kill one another. Yet again, you succeed in being naught but foolish and annoyâ€” Hmm? You're finished? Were there any survivors on the east side?" "A-allow me...to give my report..." The answer to Elisabeth's question came from the human conscript a little ways off. He had come running over from the houses to the east. Behind his metal epaulets, she could see a group of soldiers carrying bodies out of the still-burning houses. It was clear that most of the victims had already perished. The soldiers carried the brutalized corpses to the central plaza one after another. Although she was still waiting for the conscript's answer, the number of bodies she saw gave Elisabeth a fair inkling of what it would be. He came to a stop before her. Not forgetting to salute, he placed his arm horizontally across his chest as he spoke. "No luck... It was horrible! As far as we can tell, they slaughtered the entire town! Women, children, even unborn babies... It was just like all the others." He clamped his mouth shut, no doubt resisting the urge to vomit. His face was blackened with soot and swollen from inflammation. The air inside the houses was still scorching hot. They had fought back the fires as part of their search-and-rescue mission, but they hadn't had time to put them out completely. In spite of all that, he was shivering as badly as if he'd just taken shelter from a blizzard. Upon hearing the peculiar phrase even unborn babies, Elisabeth clicked her tongue. "Tch, again? How tasteless. And how persistent. This goes beyond the level of mere amusement." All of a sudden, Vlad slowly turned to them and spoke. "Isn't it just proof of how exceedingly deep the rebels' hatred runs, precious daughter of mine? Not to say that there isn't a pragmatic reason as well, but as for their fundamental motive, I've little doubt that it's just pure unadulterated loathing." Elisabeth made no efforts to hide her grimace, and the conscript let out a small gasp. Vlad grinned gleefully. It was a decidedly unsettling sight in a place as hellish as that. He went on, seemingly unfazed by the other two's revulsion. "'You're different from us... That means I can do whatever I want to you.' It's a cruel piece of rationalization some humans once came up with. Depressingly shallow logic, to be sure, and nothing but base sophistry designed to ward off feelings of guilt. You see, the