assaulted her in an abandoned building. Afterward, she closed off her heart and went missing shortly into adulthood. As for my brother, he didn't manifest any mixed-race characteristics at all. He went to work for the Church as an assistant, but when they discovered that we were related, the priest's relative who was supposed to adopt him broke it off, and he hung himself out of grief. After that, I left my family as well. My childhood friend got sold off for a copper, and I haven't seen them since, either. Whenever anyone saw me, they would always scream the same thing. "He's possessed by a demon." Now, it is true that demons induce grotesque transformations in their contractors. But the masses didn't know that. However, vague impressions were more than enough for them to shun me. "It's like in fairy tales," "hideous people do hideous things." No doubt that that's how most people perceived me. I once offered my hand to a little girl who'd fallen over, and I got beaten half to death for my concern. And so I roamed about, alone, planning on dying by the roadside somewhere. But a group planning a rebellion found me and took me in. A few decades ago, a group of mixed-race folk whose appearances made it too difficult to participate in society banded together. Now, back in the beginning, they were little more than a seedy group of bandits. But by the time I joined up, they'd acquired a number of successful commercial benefactors and were using their resources to steal and occasionally buy magic remedies and items, acquire golems and spirits, and amass rare materials and equipment. They'd even set up a little school of sorts for those with magical aptitude. They dreamed of seceding from the world much as one might yearn for a lover. When I lamented the fact that my attack took three years to put into action, that long period of enduring was the primary culprit. When the fourteen demons began their assault on mankind, our organization swallowed up information on them and used it to grow stronger. But right when we finally succeeded in summoning a low-ranked demon ourselves, I and the rest of the leadership declared we were ceasing our efforts. We were afraid, you see. Most of the mixed-race folk lived in poverty, but they lived all the same. They had it hard, but no harder than the humans struggling to make ends meet in the slums. And we couldn't bear to put a mark on their heads as a result of our desire for rebellion. We didn't want to make our sinless brethren have to shoulder that grief. So we sealed away our dark magic and instead chose a path of endurance. We forgave countless small atrocities and left tragedies as they were. And that was fine. We thought it was for the best. But then the end of days came. And after that, well, you know the rest. Thank you for lending me your ears. And I have one last request for youâ€”please remember this. We were the ones who chose rebellion and swore revenge. But we were not the first to draw swords. You people were. "That is the reason I aim to revolutionize the world. The Mixed-Race Massacre, and the countless mundane sorrows that preceded it. Now, as for the former, I was planning on omitting an explanation, but would you prefer I went over it?" "That shan't be necessary. I'm well acquainted with it." Elisabeth gave her answer immediately. La Christoph was undoubtedly the same. And it wasn't just them, either. Basically every member of the intellectual class who survived the end of days knew about it. However, no one so much as mentioned it. After all, it was a scandal serious enough to completely ruin the moving tale of the three races uniting in the face of oblivion. The series of tragedies began back before the end of days, when the reconstruction sect spread a certain rumor. "Hark, O ye ignorant faithful. Pray that God shall be your salvation. For the beginning, the middle, and the end all lie in the palm of His hand." "The end-time is nigh." "After the restoration, the devout faithful will be led into the new world." They were selfish delusions, and they weren't grounded in anything but bullshit. But when faced with the calamity that was the end of days, many people falsely believed that the predictions were coming true. However, only a scant few of them could truly claim to have been the "devout faithful." Afraid of dying, they turned to a crime not listed in their dogma. Killing heretics. That desire for salvation led to the Mixed-Race Massacre. People hoped that by killing heathens, they could demonstrate their piety toward God. Now technically, the beastfolk and the demi-humans' objects of worship, the Three Kings of the Forest and the Sand Queen, respectively, were all God's creations, so all their faiths shared the same foundations. However, even those mere aesthetic differences were enough for people to brand all other races as heretics. And because the mixed-race folk lived among them, they were the ones who became targeted. However, demi-humans were blood-purity fanatics, and because of all the chaos and mayhem, the beastfolk and other humans abandoned the mixed-race folk to their fate as well. The mixed-race folk had no one to protect them and nowhere to run. Countless lives were lost to the senseless violence. And to make matters worse, the incident left lasting marks. At the time of the tragedy, most of the perpetrators had been completely deranged. Even still, there was no consensus on how harsh their punishments should be. And although officials often had their suspicions, it was rare to find a crime scene where it could be definitively proven that it wasn't just the work of the demon underlings. Forget victims and perpetrators; it was difficult even pinning down how many crimes had actually been committed. Aside from the incidents where malicious agitation could be proven and the extreme outliers in terms of scale and brutalityâ€”like the case out in the sticks where dozens of people had been locked in a storehouse and burned aliveâ€”most of the perpetrators had been left at large. And for another thing, the tragedies continued to happen even after the end of days was averted. The stupid sheep are little more than base animals. They haven't even the capacity to learn. There was no shortage of fools who, still fearing God and Diablo, had begun committing ceremonial killings, forcing the three races to establish the Peace Brigade to crack down on them. Even that hadn't stopped the violence, but over the past year, incidents had begun dropping precipitously. It was a happy trend, but the sudden dramatic change had left Elisabeth puzzled. A short while ago, she'd mentioned as such to the crystal-bound Kaito and Hina. "Ah, but there is some good news. Although they yet continue, the mixed-race murders have subsided dramatically over the last year. 'Tis a natural result of the situation calming down, but still. That said, there is something strange that's caught my attention about the way it's subsided." Now that I think of it...that may well have been our sole sign that this incident was coming. Lewis and his compatriots had completely suspended their efforts right when they reached the stage where they could have put them into practical use. After the chaos of the end of days, it had taken them some time to get their operation back up and running. And while they were doing that, they were no doubt also rushing to protect the mixed-race folk. A year ago, those efforts must have finally started bearing significant fruit. While Elisabeth spun up conjectures, Lewis continued on. "If you want to laugh at me, then laugh away. My words are but a lamentation of the humiliating lives we've been forced into. A cry of rage at the cruelty of the fates we've been subjected toâ€”for so, so many insisted on continuing their insane foolishness. And who allowed them to be so stupid? So cruel?" Why should we have to forgive them? Make no mistakeâ€”we have been called on to forgive them time and again. Lewis's sorrowful lament echoed throughout the white room. Elisabeth could tell that his yearning was true. In the past, he'd forgiven time and again. After "not even being allowed to live his own life," he'd tried to "let the tragedy end as a tragedy." But his resolve had been betrayed. If there was an answer to his question, he no doubt wanted to hear it. However, no one spoke. Elisabeth simply thought. Irrationality is irrational precisely because it cannot be explained. Why had those tragedies happened? Probably not even the perpetrators could answer that question. Elisabeth and La Christoph were both involved in overseeing the three races' affairs. However, neither of them had the base audacity to try to offer up excuses. During her time with the Peace Brigade, Elisabeth had seen one of the massacres firsthand. The crime had taken place in a demon worshipper's ceremonial chamber. 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. That...that was akin to butchering an animal. "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." That was the vile rationalization some people had come to. No apology could be sufficient for that. Atonement was never an option. And what's more, the scene Elisabeth had stumbled onto was from after the end of days was averted. The ones that took place during that panicked time were crueler yet. Just reading the records of them had been enough to make several civil officials puke up their guts. No answer could explain away irrationality on that scale. Instead, Elisabeth posed a question. "I understand your motive full well. So what exactly do you intend to do?" "A thought crossed my mind onceâ€”if the end of days truly had been upon us, maybe it would have all been fine. On the brink of annihilation, I could greet even their malice with a smile. All their atrocities could be forgiven, written off as isolated incidents of fear-induced derangement. But God and Diablo failed to bring down the hammerâ€”" â€”so I must do it in their stead. The whisper slipped fluidly from Lewis's lips. He was laying his worn-out heart bare, but in a different way than he had when he'd expressed his sympathy for Elisabeth. For the first time, he was allowing his warped obsession to leak out. "I'll take this world, I'll make it my own, and I'll kill every last fool who walks upon it. I don't need a reason. After all, justice died long ago. At this point, what use does anyone have for something so decent and proper?" For those who've sustained such bitter woundsâ€”may well just try to destroy everything. The words Elisabeth had been contemplating earlier floated to the forefront of her mind. Lewis had been left with his sympathy and his rage, but his passion and avarice had run dry. As he saw it, the world had no worth, and it was impossible to feel passion or avarice for something worthless. He'd decided to make the world his own, but not out of any sort of personal desire. He merely wanted to right a horrible wrong. Nothing more. Those who've been taken from have a right to take from others in turn, eh. As far as Elisabeth was concerned, thoughâ€” â€”the whole thing seemed downright trivial. Writing him off like that was narrow-minded and cruel. Elisabeth was well aware of how callous she was being. Yet even so, she couldn't help but