Reincarnated Devil's Strongest Hero Training Plan ~The baby he picked up has grown up so well that his father is confused~ - Chapter 87

Reincarnated Devil’s Strongest Hero Training Plan ~The baby he picked up has grown up so well that his father is confused~

Chapter 87   God descends and echoing footsteps

“Oh my. Well, well, Your Imperial Highness. It is truly an honor to have you travel all the way to this remote area…”

“Spare me the formalities, Marquis Frankel. You understand why I am here, don’t you? Let’s get straight to the point.”

About a few weeks after obtaining concrete evidence from the mysterious informant, Saint Isha had arrived at Marquis Frankel’s territory in the southeast of the Calamiera Church, escorted by a small contingent of royal guards, including the swordmaster Ein.

Now, in a room within the marquis’s mansion, both parties, having presumably completed their preparations, were ready for their confrontation. The saint and her retinue intended to bring the marquis to justice, while the marquis aimed to evade them.

Anticipating potential interference along the way, the saint had chosen the best knights to accompany her, but to their surprise, the journey was uneventful. They encountered no obstacles and arrived smoothly, even being welcomed by the marquis himself.

This puzzled Saint Isha and her guards, who couldn’t help but wonder if the marquis truly believed he could conceal his wrongdoings.

Regardless of the marquis’s intentions, exposing all his crimes and making him atone for them was their primary objective. With irrefutable evidence at hand, they were confident that even if they had to forcibly apprehend him, no other nobles would object.

Thus, the royal guards remained vigilant, ensuring that the marquis would have no chance to escape or hide at the last moment.

“Yes, I understand. Everything is exactly as Your Highness has said. I have no intention of fleeing or hiding. Regardless of the circumstances, crimes should be exposed to the light of day. I agree with that principle of justice.”

“W-what… Are you serious, Marquis Frankel? Admitting to your crimes like this is tantamount to confessing…”

As a saint, Isha aimed to make the marquis admit his guilt and understand why someone who was once so righteous had fallen into the path of evil. She had approached this discussion with that goal in mind.

However, once the conversation began, she found that the marquis had already accepted everything with a serene demeanor, as if this situation was precisely what he had desired.

Even the saint was shaken by this. She wondered if he truly intended to surrender peacefully or if this calmness was a ruse to create an opening.

In the current situation, she couldn’t understand why the marquis, standing before her, would repeatedly make statements that put him at a disadvantage.

Addressing the perplexed saint, the marquis continued with a chuckle as if sharing a joke.

“That’s right, Your Highness. I’m admitting to my crimes. Yes, it’s all true. Even if those behind me apprehend me now, I won’t make any excuses. I’ve instructed my retainers accordingly.”

His oddly calm and resolute attitude was evident. Indeed, the number of knights on the marquis’s side was noticeably small. They stood at attention, watching the proceedings with a mix of pride and helplessness, their expressions slightly strained.

This was an unusual scene, far from what one would expect from those cornered.

“What… What is your goal?”

Finally, unable to grasp their true intentions, the saint directly questioned the marquis, breaking the usual protocol of negotiation.

“Heh… It’s quite simple, really. You see, I despise hypocrisy. Those who harm and betray others for their own so-called justice or convenience while pretending to be righteous. Isn’t it absurd for someone like that to speak as if they are in the right, even if it’s for the sake of their wife and daughter?”

The weight of his words—or perhaps the resolve behind them—was unmistakable.

The guards, who were there solely to protect the saint, couldn’t comprehend why he mentioned his wife and daughter at this moment. However, the firm determination on the marquis’s face was evident to all present.

Saint Isha and the swordmaster Ein, having prior knowledge from the mysterious informant, perceived the marquis’s actions differently. They understood that this was his desperate attempt to save his family suffering from the Immortal Disease. It was also his way of apologizing for the disruption of legal order and the suffering inflicted upon his subjects.

“Indeed, I am a criminal. That fact does not change. But… that’s precisely why I cannot end it here. I apologize in advance, Your Imperial Highness. No, to the hope of humanity, Saint Isha Grace de Calamiera. I intend to────”

────take you down with me.

────I am truly sorry.

At that moment, the swordmaster Ein, sensing an imminent threat, moved with blinding speed towards the marquis. In an instant, he subdued the marquis and held his sword to his throat.

The swiftness of his action was astonishing. Even the elite royal guards of the church couldn’t follow his movements, breaking out in cold sweat as they tried to comprehend what had just transpired.

“You scoundrel! What were you planning to do to Her Imperial Highness!? Depending on your answer, I won’t let you off lightly!”

“Heh… As expected of the swordmaster. Your reputation is well-deserved. Though I fancied myself a first-rate mage, I didn’t expect to be subdued so easily.”

“Stop your nonsense!”

Even though he was restrained, he chuckled as if there was no problem at all, showing the demeanor of someone who had long since given up on his own life. In fact, by drawing the troublesome swordmaster close to him, he seemed confident that he had finally secured his plan’s success by neutralizing his primary obstacle.

Blood trickled slightly from the wound caused by the sword, but it seemed this was all part of his calculation. As if to confirm this, the marquis, pinned to the floor, began channeling his magic into the prearranged magic circle.

This room, with its furniture disguised as magical devices and its ceiling adorned with paintings that formed a magical pattern, was actually a ritual chamber designed for the use of forbidden spells.

Realizing this from the marquis’s composure, swordmaster Ein turned pale and quickly glanced back at his liege, Saint Isha.

“Milady!!”

“Ein…! What is this…!”

The saint was already enveloped in a sinister black magic sphere, which had engulfed her. The semi-transparent sphere’s surface flickered with strange geometric patterns. Ein, panicking, tried to attack it, but it didn’t budge. It didn’t even scratch.

The sphere had a terrifying magical intensity, befitting its status as a forbidden spell.

“Heh… It’s futile, swordmaster. Do you know how long I’ve been channeling my magic into this forbidden spell? For nearly six months, I’ve poured all my magic into it. I, a first-rate mage, have infused it to my limit. It can’t be easily destroyed. It’s already too late…”

The marquis, also enclosed in a similar magic sphere, revealed the truth, his tone heavy with suppressed emotion. He was about to perform a ritual that would sacrifice both his and the saint’s lives to save his wife and daughter from their illness. The exits were completely sealed by the ritual’s magic, and no one could leave until it was completed.

He explained that once the ritual was finished, his wife and daughter would be smuggled out of the country by his subordinates, ensuring they couldn’t be held accountable.

Hearing this, the royal guards finally realized they had walked into a trap. They glared at the marquis with hatred for resorting to such desperate and immoral means.

“Heh. Do you hate me? Yet, I cannot stop. This was the only way to save my wife and daughter. That’s all there is to it…”

Declaring that he didn’t expect anyone to understand the words of a villain, he closed his eyes, accepting that he would be hated if necessary. He knew better than anyone that his reasoning was incomprehensible.

However, amid this tension, the one person who should harbor the most hatred, Saint Isha, nodded as if she finally understood.

“I see, that’s how it is… But no, I do not hate you. In such a situation, who could blame you? If we, or anyone else, were in a similar predicament, how could we claim we wouldn’t make the same mistake?”

“What…?”

She continued, “After all, everyone has someone they hold dear. When you have exhausted every means to save them and still can’t, can you truly consider others?

You can’t know until you’re in that moment. How precious someone is can only be understood by the person themselves.

Maybe some can accept their loved one’s end and move on. But there are also those who can’t accept it and struggle desperately.

Who are we, as outsiders, to determine which is right and which is wrong? How can those who do not know your pain make such arbitrary judgments?”

Saint Isha’s words were a profound reflection on human nature and the difficulty of judging actions taken out of deep love and desperation.

“Therefore. I do not believe your choice to be wrong. If there is anyone at fault here, it is…”

It is I, the princess, the saint with the power to save people, who pushed you into this without understanding your pain.

With that conclusion, the saint stated firmly.

“Your Highness…!”

“Yes, I understand, Ein. I have no intention of giving up. However, even if I am the only one saved here, it won’t lead to a fundamental solution.”

…Then, this must be the time to use my trump card.

The saint murmured as she clasped her hands in prayer, her body enveloped in a silvery aura, her eyes shining blue.

“Y-Your eyes are shining blue…!? W-What are you…! What do you intend to do…!”

“It’s simple. If you have the resolve to sacrifice yourself, then I also have the resolve to match it. It wouldn’t do for you to underestimate the power of humanity’s hope, the saint, would it?”

The silvery aura surrounding the saint’s body shimmered brightly, illuminating the surroundings. The dazzling silver magic, shining so strongly it was blinding, reminiscent of the golden magic Ars awakened during the Three Demon Generals, seemed to resonate with the saint’s conviction, increasing in strength.

“Ars-sama. This is the true power that I, as a saint, possess, awakened after sensing your golden magic. For the sake of the wounded, whom I must save… I will use it with all my might. —— Ultimate Sacred Magic, Descent of the Benevolent God.”

At that moment, the silvery aura surrounding her formed into a humanoid shape, replicating one ultimate magic as the saint’s vessel. A massive silver magic circle appeared in the sky above the duke’s territory, illuminating the entire port town with its light, even though it was daytime.

Furthermore, as the glow intensified, the power of the forbidden spell shattered and dissipated, and the gigantic aura of light pierced through the roofs, creating large holes in the ceilings. Strangely, no one was harmed by the intense magic; instead, everyone bathed in the light had their wounds healed, illnesses cured, vitality restored, and their life force ignited with vigor.

“This is…!”

“Hehe. Surprised, Lord Frankel? This is the ace in the hole granted only to the saint, the descent of the god… alas…”

With that, having healed everyone, the saint, who had housed something within herself, collapsed with a depleted expression.

As a premise,

An extravagant feat like the descent of a god is something that an immature individual who has not yet reached adulthood should not be able to wield. There is a limit to every great technique, and if one were to use power beyond their capacity, the vessel would not be able to withstand it.

Nevertheless, the saint, driven by her own will, used a power far beyond her current capacity, causing her own soul, which should have healed everyone, to begin to break apart.

“Your Highness…! Please, Your Highness, stay with us! Why… why do you have to sacrifice yourself for this person?! You are the people’s… my… hope!! Do you understand?! Don’t die! You can’t just die on your own!! Hey! Wake up!!”

However, just as the duke was willing to sacrifice many for the sake of a few loved ones, no matter what miracles the saint performed, there would inevitably be mourners shedding tears.

The reality was incomprehensible to the Sword Saint Ein, who had been her childhood friend. However, amidst his cries of anguish, paying no heed to his surroundings…

Suddenly, from somewhere,

With firm footsteps echoing—thud, thud—along with a distinct voice.

──────── Truly, what a soft-hearted soul there was among you all.

──────── But it was magnificent.

──────── The outcome you brought about certainly exceeded my imagination.