Late in the night, Salem was heading to the bottommost floor of the palace—one even deeper than the basement. The commander of the Holy Knights was accompanying him as he did so. No light reached this far, so there was a lantern powered by magic hanging there, and it was not only quiet, but dreadfully so.
He arrived at a door made of wood. The pair of Holy Knights guarding the door noticed Salem and bowed their heads. Salem ignored them and knocked on the door. There was no reply from inside.
"…What is this?"
When Salem looked to his side, a Holy Knight lowered his head and replied.
"She must have tired herself out and fallen asleep."
"Is that right? Well… she did appear to be pushing herself too hard."
Salem opened the door and stepped in. A pungent smell which couldn't quite be described agitated his nose. The room was filled with a thick, hazy smoke, and the study was full of books scattered about in disarray, waiting to be organized. Not to mention the various pieces of paper with relevant information scribbled across them.
After having surveyed the room, Salem crossed his arms and scratched his chin.
"Hmm… I thought you said you'd succeed within three months' time. It looks like you're continuing to fail at keeping your promises."
There were complicated runes etched onto the floor, surrounded by stains of blood. In one area was a scorch mark in the shape of a small child, indicating that one had been burned to death there. Due to how many times it had happened, it had left a permanent mark which even repeated attempts at cleaning could not get rid of.
Salem tilted his head curiously. There was a steel cage to the side and within it were multiple children, each of whom were bleeding and crying out in anguish. However, their cries were silenced by a glowing rune etched into the floor, which shut out all sound from within the cage. Salem looked at the children and frowned. He looked at them like one would look at a cockroach.
"Oh my, the stench! They are sacrifices meant to extend my life. Please wash them. Do you think I'll feel comfortable using such filth to extend my life?"
The Captain of the Holy Knights bowed.
"As you wish."
Salem clicked his tongue as he shook his head. Moving deeper into the room, he saw a small hill made of books and papers, followed by a sleeping woman slumped over a table just beyond. It was a woman with violet hair, Akareal Morgana. She had been one of the Hero's former party members and she was the woman Salem coveted. Seeing her exhausted form, he allowed himself a smug smile.
'She must have been tired.'
Salem felt a bit excited. She had been conducting this research with all of her might for his sake. For the sake of extending his life, she had abandoned her morals to research forbidden magic. For him and only him…!
'Aah, looks like you truly do love me!'
Looking at Salem's rapturous expression, the Captain retreated and left the room, closing the door behind him. Salem reached out and brushed his fingers through her hair, trembling. He was making great efforts to not be overcome with excitement.
As he gulped and touched her lips, she frowned and muttered, as though in agony.
"S-sorry… Sorry… I'm really sorry… There was no other way. For him… It was the only way…"
Tears leaked out of her eyes. She must have been having a nightmare. It was only natural considering that she had been researching magic that required her to sacrifice children.
"To be undergoing such research for my sake, despite how torturous it is for you… It matters not, Akareal. There is no need to be burdened by such guilt! That emotion will not last much longer anyway. Humans are adaptive creatures."
Salem placed his face closer to hers. When he was close enough to feel her breath, he whispered into her ears.
"You only have to forget your torment and follow me. I will bring you happiness. I will raise you to a position that will put you higher than anyone else in the world. As the wife of the Pope, all that you wish to do or to have shall be given to you. I, Pope Salem Gatteschurache, shall put a blessing upon your pitiful life and will let you live eternally and more happily than anyone else!"
His hand reached for her clothes.
"So, be mine, Akareal…!"
It was just as he was about to lose the very last modicum of control that he had over his lust.
"Sir Hero…"
Salem frozen. He pulled back his outstretched hand and stared at her dumbly.
"I… will surely save you."
"… Aah? Aah? Aaaaaah!?"
Salem retreated. He began to babble something incoherent as he groped his face. His vision had turned red all of a sudden and he was overcome with embarrassment, an emotion he could scarcely understand. It was then that he looked toward a mirror off to the side.
It held the disgraceful image of him trying to hold back his tears, like a child about to cry. He was actually about to burst into tears.
'No, this can't be true! This can't be how I look. This isn't the image of the all-powerful Pope!' Salem thought in despair. 'Why do I feel so cheated? Why am I filled with rage?'As Salem asked himself these questions over and over, he arrived at an answer. It was because she had been stolen from him by a slave.
In silence, he contemplated the truth.
She was not performing these heinous experiments while harboring feelings for him, she was doing it for an escaped slave wearing the mask of a Hero. She was casting him aside! Salem hated him. He loathed him! He resented him! He wanted to tear him to shreds!
But he knew he couldn't. Salem calmed himself and regained his composure, continuing to think.
No, I… I can't do that! That's right, I can't let him off so easily. How dare a mere slave look down on the Pope…
With these thoughts racing through his head, he left the research room.
"Uwaaaack!"
As the Captain was lowering his head upon seeing the Pope return, Salem swung his fist at one of the other Holy Knights there, landing a heavy hit on his sturdy helmet. Along with the ringing of metal, crimson blood burst from Salem's hand. The Holy Knight wavered, but thanks to his well-trained body, he managed to regain his balance after only a single step back. His surprise was more from the sudden change in Salem's attitude rather than the blow itself.
"H-holiness? Your Holiness… w-why are you acting this way?"
Salem ignored the question and looked at his torn-up hand.
"Shit, it hurts! Why are you wearing a helmet!"
Salem roughly removed the Holy Knight's helm and brought it down upon the knight's face.
"Aaaahhhh! Why! Why! Why is it always him! Just why! Huh?! Why? Why? Why…?"
The Holy Knight collapsed, and Salem jumped on top of him while continuing to slam the helmet down on him. Over and over and over again, he kept going. Soon, the sound of meat being tenderized could be heard, followed by the sound of something bursting. Blood splattered everywhere in crimson arcs.
The other Holy Knights and their Captain stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
"Hah… hah…. hah…"
'How much time has passed?'
Salem tossed the helmet onto the ground; he was exhausted. He stood up and looked down upon the fallen Holy Knight. His face had burst and was badly destroyed, but he was still breathing.
"Hah. Amazing. Truly amazing. Haha! You're still not dead? Truly, as expected of a Holy Knight of the Holy Kingdom! I'm proud of you! Even a single Holy Knight's life is this tenacious. Then, just how tenacious must a Hero be? Aah, yes. He needs to be tough, otherwise how would I enjoy it? Surely, I'll have to make sure it's so painful that he wants to take his own life. He's made it this painful for me, after all."
Salem licked his lips, produced a pouch that was on his person, and tossed it at the knight.
"For his treatment."
He only said those words before moving on, stepping on the fallen Holy Knight's face as he went.
"We'll go and meet him immediately. Let's see that so-called Hero's damned face."
The Captain swallowed hard as he stepped in line to follow the Pope.
***