decide for you what is and isn't more precious than the world! You have to choose; you have to make the decision! Dammit, you, you're not thinking at all!" "You're saying rather strange things, mister. What are you suggesting it is that I'm not thinking about?" "You can't seriously tell me you paid a single thought to whether you'd regret it or not!" Upon hearing Kaito's accusation, Jeanne cocked her head to the side. It was faint, but her lack of expression started crumbling a little. She blinked as she replied, her voice filled with utter astonishment. "Whether I would regret it or not? That don't matter for shit." "Like hell it doesn't! And the moment you couldn't immediately say that you wouldn't proves it, goddammit! You're the one who brought up first love, so don't you dare pretend you're some robot who doesn't know what emotionsâ€”Oh, right, this world doesn't have robots... Anyway, don't talk like you're pretending you don't have feelings! Dammit, how can you be so...how can you be such a...?" Kaito was even more dumbfounded than Jeanne was. Unable to find the words he was looking for, he stomped his foot on the ground. Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. The words he finally found were equal parts earnest and ill-fitting. "How can you be such an idiot?" "I see. How nonsensical. However, this does mark the first time anyone has ever asked me that." Jeanne's whisper was quiet and subdued. She looked back over at Izabella. The convulsions running across her body were growing weaker and weaker. Yet, Jeanne refused to move, as though she were frozen solid. The heavy silence persisted. Kaito was on the verge of wringing more words out of himself. Before he could, though, Jeanne hesitatingly opened her mouth, then closed it again. After repeating that process a few times, she finally managed to get the words out. "What do you think, miss, Torture Princess Elisabeth Le Fanu?" The question had an almost desperate ring to it. Likely expecting words of rebuke, Jeanne elaborated on her inquiry to the black Torture Princess, the woman cut from the same cloth as herself. "You consider all equally. You bear heavy sins and will someday burn at the stake for them. You refuse to betray those you've killed, and you obstinately continue your life as an arrogant, honest sinner. If it were youâ€”?" "Hell if I know. Silence. I'm tired of listening to you." The reply came in three curt remarks. Furthermore, it came from a location that nobody had expected. Everyone present turned to look. Lute, in particular, gave a heavy gasp. Elisabeth Le Fanu was positioned in midair. Facing her target, she was holding her sword aloft. On the other end of her sword stood the Grave Keeper, whose scarlet robe fluttered as she looked up at the Torture Princess aiming for her. Everyone felt as though time had frozen over. The sinner and the zealot exchanged a meaningful stare. The Grave Keeper could have easily given orders to the paladins, who were still kneeling to the side. However, she persisted in her silence. The crimson blade drew toward the pale neck, almost as if the two were destined to meet. The moment before the sword reached its target, the Grave Keeper spoke as though in prayer. "'You are free to act as you will. But pray that God shall be your salvation. For the beginning, the middle, and the end all lie in the palm of His hand.'" Her quiet, hopeful smile had never left her face. As the Grave Keeper spoke to her killer, her expression was steeped in heartfelt affection. "Hallelujah." And with that, Elisabeth's blade sliced through her young neck. Blood surged. The Grave Keeper's round little head went flying through the air. It then rolled along the ground, eventually coming to a stop still draped in its scarlet hood. A pool of blood quietly gathered. The Grave Keeper had been killed before their very eyes, and she hadn't so much as put up a fight. The paladins didn't move. The way they refrained from counterattacking implied that they'd been given orders not to beforehand. Instead, they stood up in unison and raised their arms horizontally over their chests. Turning to face the Grave Keeper's corpse, they bowed. Their postures seemed to be ones of mourning. Suddenly, Kaito arrived at a hypothesis. The Grave Keeper's escorts seemed to have had a relatively high compatibility with the demon meat. Maybe that was because they'd willingly chosen to consume the meat and carefully tuned their portions. No matter what kind of person they are, anyone with a strong will will inevitably find admirers. Even if that person harbored nothing but madness. Just so long as their conviction was unshakable. "Tch, how ghastly. 'Tis my first victory to ever be so irksome." Elisabeth landed on the ground unopposed. She clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction. A violent wave of confusion washed over Kaito. The Grave Keeper had died, and she hadn't even tried to defend herself. And she'd probably even told the paladins not to retaliate. But why? He had no idea what she'd been trying to accomplish. Should we really be playing along with the Grave Keeper's scheme like this? Plagued by his misgivings, Kaito turned to look back at Jeanne. She still hadn't made her decision. Instead, she was looking at Elisabeth in supplication. Elisabeth dispelled her sword and began walking. It didn't look as though she intended to give Jeanne any replies past the three she already had. The black Torture Princess passed by the golden Torture Princess. Suddenly, though, Elisabeth came to a stop. Still facing forward, she gave a quiet murmur. "'Twere it I, I would ask no one. And if any dared tell me what to do, I'd lend them no ear." *** "Yet, ask you did. I obtained power by killing people as they wailed and screamed. You obtained power by killing the willing. One part the same, one part differentâ€”not that I was informed, at any rate. In truth, I find it unpleasant that such a woman would declare herself Torture Princess. That is what I say to you, Jeanne de Rais, the saint, the whore, and the maiden of salvation." Jeanne didn't respond. Only Elisabeth's eyes moved as she gazed at her in profile. When Elisabeth spoke next, her voice was cold beyond belief. "Do as you please. 'Twere it I, I would kill her. But you are not I. And the burden of your choice shall be yours alone to shoulder. But bear no conceitsâ€”saving the world and destroying it are but mere matters of personal selfishness." "...It would seem both my options are cruel. But damn, this one's a doozy." Jeanne's voice was quiet and subdued. The ebony Torture Princess resumed walking, leaving her behind. Elisabeth left Kaito and the others behind as well as she headed toward the Butcher. Kaito hurriedly grabbed Hina by the hand and followed behind. After looking around restlessly, Lute joined them, too. As they ran, Kaito cast a fleeting glance backward. Only Jeanne and Izabella remained atop the ice. Alone, the golden Torture Princess gazed down upon the dying woman. She gazed down upon the person who, by all rights, she should let die. She gazed down upon the first woman she'd ever loved. "I'll..." Jeanne's whisper came out hoarse. Then her head flopped to the side. For the first time, her expressionless visage shattered. With a perplexed look on her face, she let out a childlike whisper. "...I...will?" And then Jeanne de Rais, the saint, the whore, and the man-made maiden of salvation, made her choice. 8 The Butcher's Story Kaito and the others ran atop the narrow pathway that sat between the two fissures. Bottomless abysses lay on either side. One wrong step and they would be swallowed up by the unknowable darkness. They dashed quickly but carefully. The dark blob in the distance slowly but surely grew closer, eventually revealing the silhouette of a familiar back. In a way, it really did look lonely. It feels kinda like he's waiting for someone who'll never come. As he quickened his pace even further, Kaito felt a strange pressure coming from ahead. It was like a wind was blowing up from the bottom of the pit. However, the air around him didn't seem to be moving an inch. Now that he thought about it, the snow had stopped falling as well. The atmosphere was frozen over and tense. It felt as though the whole world were holding its breath. I guess this really is the moment that the world was waiting for. However, he didn't know what it was waiting for in particular. He didn't know what would happen, or what would become clear, once they reached the Saint's Apostle, either. In fact, he didn't even have proof that they'd be able to find out where the Saint really was. Even so, he kept on running. Eventually, as he closed in on the figure's back, he called out to it. "Butcher!" "Why, if it isn't Mr. Dim-Witted Servant, Madam Elisabeth, and Ms. Lovely Maid! And the rest of you fine people, you're all here!" The Butcher did a little hop. His reply was no different from normal, as though he'd been out on a stroll and had just happened to bump into them. It was not a response anyone had expected. Perplexed, Kaito came to a stop. Everyone else did the same. Hina's expression was just as confused as his, and Lute scrunched up his snout and made no efforts to hide his wariness. Elisabeth frowned in displeasure. Jeanne, bringing up the rear, wore a serene expression on her face. Not looking at the Butcher, her gaze was solidly fixed on the woman she was cradling in her arms. It was Izabella, with more than 70 percent of her body supplemented with machine parts. She was adrift in a defenseless slumber. The way Jeanne was carrying Izabella reminded Kaito of a statue from his old world called the PietÃ that he'd once caught a glimpse of on television. As the Butcher looked at her, he let out a surprised cry. "Ah, so that's what you chose! Goodness gracious, what a surprise! I had a hunch, somehow or other, yet it's a surprise all the same!" "You little..." "Humans really are intriguing creatures, I must say. They have wisdom surpassing any beast, yet at times they find themselves driven by their emotions despite knowing full well how illogical they're being. I can't say I hate that contradiction, mind you!" "You knew this was gonna happen, just like the Grave Keeper did, then?" Kaito's voice was full of quiet rage, indicating his revulsion and fury at having been toyed with by the two of them. However, the Butcher's demeanor didn't change. His response was clear and prompt. "Oh no, I just heard bits and pieces of information from my little whelp. So I figured, this is what would happen if the golden, Deus Ex Machinaâ€“wielding Torture Princess butted heads with the Grave Keeper, that's all. She was quite the devout believer, after all, and she had a rather solid head on her shoulders. But, me oh my, I'm just glad that that delightful woman is all right!" "You don't get to say that!" "I'm being entirely sincere! Back when I was trapped in the Gibbet, she was kind enough to show me concern. Wishing death on her was the furthest thing from my mind!" "Skip the nonsense, Butcher." A cold voice interrupted Kaito and the Butcher's exchange. Slipping adroitly through the group's ranks, Elisabeth took her place at its head. She then went on, marking the Butcher as an enemy with her gaze. "You referred to yourself as the enemy of the world. And even had you not, this entire affair began when you sold Vlad that demon meat. Was