having thought of the party in question quicker than Kaito. He looked at her, silently asking her what answer she'd arrived at. But he couldn't bring himself to ask. Her face had gone terribly pale. "It can't be," she silently mouthed. "Oh, but it can," said Vlad's smile. "The Butcher told you himself, did he not? He deals in meats, no matter what kind of meats they may be." 6 Boulders Fall and Curtains Rise The crimson cylinder collapsed to the ground as drops of blood. Then they faded, leaving Elisabeth standing silently behind in the underground chambers beneath her castle. She'd used her teleportation circle and returned from her hometown. The passages beneath her castle smelled of mold, and an indistinct moaning sound echoed within their walls. Elisabeth strode through the halls, making her way toward her bedroom. She maintained her brisk pace as she passed the ominous designs that were cast in the light streaming through the castle's colored windows. As she walked, she found her brow furrowing. The air smelled of smoke, and it carried with it the fragrant aroma of meat cooking. As she expected, the smell grew stronger the closer she got to her destination. With a displeased look on her face, she yanked open the door to her bedroom. Inside, she discovered that the disaster within was as much as it had been when she'd left. In fact, it had even grown worse. A fire was blazing atop her floor. It was a mystery where he'd gotten the kindling from, but the Butcher had rebuilt his bonfire, and the tripods surrounding it were far sturdier than the ones he'd been using before. A skewered slab of meat hung atop the flame from an iron rod. As far as Elisabeth could tell, the meat seemed more or less respectable. As he rotated the rod, the Butcher was once more lavishly seasoning the meat. Then he noticed Elisabeth's presence. "Aha, welcome back, Madam Elisabeth! Hark and be gladdened! For dinner, your Butcher has oh-so-thoughtfully prepared you a basilisk roast!" "...I see." Elisabeth's response was uncharacteristically blunt, and her tone was oddly cheerful. No sooner had she taken a step toward the bed than she flopped forward into it. She buried her face in her downy pillow. Then, shoving aside a stray wine bottle, she closed her eyes. While adjusting the flame's heat, the Butcher tilted his head to the side. "Puberty is a trying time, I suppose," he murmured quietly to himself. The crackling of the flame filled the room. From time to time, beads of fat would drip off the meat and sizzle in the fire. For a time, the two of them were silent. Eventually, though, Elisabeth mumbled a few words. "Oy, Butcher. About that time you first came to this castle." "Ah, that takes me back! I found myself wondering, however did you manage your shopping before I came along? Goodness gracious, Madam Torture Princess, I imagine that must have been quite the ordeal." "Aye, quite so. 'It's a good thing you found the one butcher willing to come all this way to such a remote locale,' you once said to me. I found myself in hearty agreement." "Oh, very much so, very much so. Ha-ha, I imagine I really am the only one who'd come to a place such as this." The Butcher proudly puffed up his chest as he happily waxed nostalgic about the past. As he vigorously rotated the tripod-supported rod, dribbles of fat continued splashing against the flames. Elisabeth's tone lowered as she posed him her next question. "A question, then. Why did you decide, out of the blue, to come peddling your wares here?" "Hmm? Well, I do pride myself on customer acquisition. I'm the model merchant, if I do say so myself." "You showed no fear, not even when dealing with the Torture Princess. A sinner without peer. Much to the contrary, you treated me as though I'd been a patron of yours for years. And even today, you behave much the same. Demons are constantly involved in my affairs, yet you show not the slightest inkling of fear. Why, you seem all but accustomed to them." "Well, you know, I've always been a rather plucky man...plucky demi-man?" "Tell me, Butcher. Have you, by any chance, ever had dealings with Vlad?" The moment her words came out, the Butcher went silent. For a moment, an unnatural silence filled the room. The flames crackled, and the fat dripped. Then, in a terrifyingly dispassionate voice, Elisabeth resumed the conversation. "That was the reason you came peddling to the Torture Princess's castle so unfalteringly. You'd known that Vlad had been captured, and you knew what was sure to follow." The Butcher gave no answer. Eventually, though, he let out a hollow laugh. "Hmm, well, I racked my brains with all my might, but you see, I have oh-so-many customers. Remembering the names of each and every person I've done business with, well, now, that's just a little..." "What did you sell him?" Elisabeth cut the Butcher's reply short and got right to the heart of the matter. The Butcher went silent again. The only sound was that of the bonfire's crackling. The Butcher deliberately turned the rod. When the meat had finally been fully cooked, he cracked pepper over it to deepen the flavor. Satisfied with the result, he turned back toward Elisabeth. Then, from within the abyssal darkness of his hood, he peered at her. "...Whatever might you be talking about?" As always, his expression was concealed. But Elisabeth instinctively knew. The Butcher was wearing a twisted smile. "Spiked Hare!" As Elisabeth yelled, crimson flower petals and black feathers swirled up into the air. A wooden roller filled with iron nails materialized, then began rolling toward the Butcher to crush him. His response came quickly. With the same graceful movements he'd displayed countless times before, he evaded the torture device. The bonfire was scattered. The fire went out, and the meat was crushed. All his efforts had gone to waste. Despite that, though, the Butcher still smiled. An unfathomable grin still lurked beneath the deep darkness of his hood. "Wait, hold up a second. The Butcher? There's no way; he's just your plain old demi-human merchant!" The shout practically ripped itself from Kaito's mouth. In his mind, he could visualize the Butcher's familiar hooded likeness hopping up and down in protest. But Vlad merely replied to Kaito's objections with a shrug. "An honest assessment from an honest man, my dear successor. Come now; the mere fact that he went peddling his wares at the Torture Princess's castle should have been more than enough proof of his irregularity. The Kaiser made a fine point, you know. If you don't do something about that earnest nature of yours, you're liable to get yourself killed one of these days. Take this as a lesson." An unpleasant grin spread across Vlad's face once more. He stroked his cheeks with his white-gloved fingers. "After all, in this world where demons dwell, those deserving of trust are few and far between." As he stood in the center of that unfamiliar town, Kaito felt a deep dizziness come over him. It felt like the faces of the corpses surrounding him were curled into mocking sneers. He pressed down lightly on his forehead, trying to calm down. Everything that had happened up until then flashed back through his mind. He has a pointâ€”the Butcher's way too strong to be any ordinary merchant. The Butcher's past was shrouded in mystery, and he seemed borderline fearless. And on top of that, he even kept a dragon as a mount. Kaito and Elisabeth had often found themselves pondering what his true nature was. But no matter how many of his peculiarities they uncovered, it had somehow felt like they were all in character for him. Furthermore, the Butcher had helped Kaito out on a number of occasions in the past, each time with the same distinctively upbeat manner. But still, he's right about what the Butcher told me. "I can procure any meat you desire, so long as it is 'meat.' I await your instruction." Did that include demon meat, too? Kaito felt almost as though the ground beneath his feet was crumbling. What secrets were lurking behind the surface of all those desperate battles I fought? Ever since the new Torture Princess had shown up, everything had gone off the rails. It was like the very stage they were standing on had started crumbling beneath his feet. Kaito still couldn't make out what lurked in the abyss beneath it. He didn't even know if it was something that mortals were meant to see. "Well then, let me repeat myself once more. Act as my loyal servant, Kaito Sena. All this is for the sake of salvation." What the hell do you mean, "well then"?! The situation was chaos, and Kaito gave an internal scream out of frustration. He turned his hollow gaze toward Jeanne. The golden Torture Princess had appeared out of nowhere, then proudly proclaimed herself a saint and a whore. Then she'd gone on and on about "salvation" this and "salvation" that. How noble. The young girl, a saint, was going to save the world. At that thought, Kaito found himself filled with a seething sense of irritation and doubt. What was "salvation" anyway? Why did the world even need to be saved? "What does me serving you have to do with salvation? All fourteen demons are dead. Elisabeth Le Fanu sacrificed everything to defeat them! The threat to humanity is over. Why'd they send you out into the world so late? What the hell were you created to fight?!" "It ain't over for shit. Things are just getting started, you stupid little Hanged Man." His question had been heartfelt, but the reply he'd received was full of scorn. Kaito's eyes went wide. But his fierce irritation had the opposite effect as one would expect on his emotions and caused their heightened state to subside. He placed his rebuttal on hold, then patiently waited for Jeanne to finish explaining. The chains on her wrists rattled as she raised her index finger. Then she pressed it against her lips, as though she were sharing some great secret with him. "The curtain has only just begun to rise. In fact, it was the two of you Lovers who set it off." Kaito and Elisabeth weren't in any romantic relationship to speak of. But as Jeanne spread her arms wide, that was what she'd likened them to. Her face still expressionless, she gave a single spin, as though trying to wrap the entire world in her embrace. Then, in the town assailed by death, Jeanne made a bold proclamation. "The fourteen chess pieces were successfully destroyed, but the board has become severely cracked. What did a certain group think when they saw those tainted wounds? What did they wish for, and what did they begin plotting? The problem lies therein." As always, it was difficult to tell what Jeanne was talking about. But with the bearing of a great prophet, she went on. "If things continue as they are, the world will perish 'just as planned.'" Smiling as she made her declaration, Jeanne opened her mouth to continue speaking. For once, it looked like she was going to elaborate on her explanation. But suddenly, she stopped and snapped her fingers instead. Snap! â€”Grrr? The beast made completely of fangs reared its head from within Deus Ex Machina. Jeanne spoke softly, as though she were sending her own child out into the world. "Go on now, Bandersnatch. Duty calls." The moment she did, the beast took off at a dash. The stone ground cracked in its wake. As the beast sprinted, it damaged everything it came in contact with. The fangs comprising its skin, muscle, and bone undulated. Bandersnatch was both an individual and a collective, and it glistened with a