Vol 4 Chapter 98: “Atonement” (Vol 4: The Otherworldly Battlefield Arc)

The town’s air hung heavy after retrieving the priest’s corpse.

The grand plan everyone pinned their hopes on? Crumbled. The damage? Worse than a stampede of drunk Aronda wolves. Even after the monsters were slaughtered, chaos still rampaged—forcing the Holy Knights to play cleanup crew.

Sukui? He handed the body to the knights and bounced. No helping. No drama.

“Uh…”

Holo trailed behind, scrambling for words. Sukui didn’t even glance back. What’d he think of the priest? She couldn’t tell.

But this wasn’t like when Mei died. No hollow, madness-drained shell here. Nope. Now, Sukui’s eyes screamed ferocity—like madness lit a fire under his butt.

“Let’s go home.”

Sukui stomped past the town’s mess like it was invisible. Angry glares? Whispers blaming him? Might as well be gnats buzzing at a brick wall.

“Yo.”

Back home, Pardar waited, leaning like a bored grandpa at a bus stop.

“Wild day, huh?”

His tone was so casual, you’d think he was chatting about soup. But even his wrinkly face looked grim—tired, resigned, old-man vibes cranked to max.

“The priest…?”

Pardar peered at Sukui, fishing for confirmation.

“Dead.”

Sukui’s reply? Ice cold. Pardar sighed like he’d lost a poker bet.

The town’s peace had relied on the priest’s magic hocus-pocus. Now? The church would try, but good luck replicating that mess.

But Pardar’s mood wasn’t just about the town. Nope. His vibe? Different. Guilty.

“Sukui-kun.”

Suddenly, Pardar brightened—well, as much as a grandpa with one foot in the grave can.

“What.”

Holo braced for a “Take over the church!” speech.

“Kill me, will ya?”

…Or not. Pardar dropped this bombshell like asking for extra potatoes. Calm. Casual. Zero effs given.

“…Hah?”

“C’mon.”

Pardar shrugged. He knew Sukui’s whole “death = salvation, living sinners = losers” shtick—thanks to Abid’s big mouth.

“I’m a sinner too, y’know.”

Sukui didn’t flinch. Poliviti’s full of criminals. Pardar, ex-bigshot? Obviously did shady stuff to end up here.

“Sure, but…”

Sukui side-eyed him. Current Pardar? Hero grandpa who saved kids.

Past Pardar? Who cares. Not like Sukui’s itching to play Grim Reaper today.

“Even if I was a baby-killing supervillain back in the day?”

Until Pardar said that, maybe. Now?

Holo’s eyes bugged out.

“Not in Poliviti. Way back, when I was young.” Pardar’s grin faded slowly, his face darkening as he spilled his past. “I was a grade-A serial killer. The ‘chuckling while slaughtering families’ type.”

Unthinkable for the gentle grandpa now. But hey, everyone’s got hobbies.

“No regrets. Had a blast killing and stealing. Kids begging for mercy? Made sure their moms got a front-row seat before joining ’em.”

Pardar’s hands shook—not from guilt, just bad joints, probably. Brutality was his breakfast. Even toddlers in happy homes? Smashed like piñatas.

“Even in Poliviti, I stayed wicked.”

He paused, then added like an afterthought: “You don’t believe in redemption, right?”

Sukui shrugged. Poliviti’s a dumpster fire of criminals. Pardar, ex-bigshot? Obviously guilty. But now? Dude saved kids.

“If we’d met back then, you’d’ve killed me. So why not now?”

“…Probably.”

Sukui eyed him. “Why’d you quit being evil?”

Pardar blinked, then snorted. “No deep reason.”

In Poliviti’s hellscape, some brat started clinging to him. Normally, he’d’ve squashed the pest. But hey, free servant!

“No affection. Treated ’em like a rusty tool. Yet the brat stuck around.”

Years passed. Annoyance turned to…something. Then the kid croaked from a measly cold.

“Couldn’t save ’em. All I knew was murder.”

First time he felt fear? Realizing he’d liked the brat. Liked their messed-up life. Memories of the families he’d destroyed flooded back—moms shielding kids, kids screaming.

“Puked my guts out.”

Love and guilt tsunami’d his brain. Couldn’t go back to murdering. Started “saving” kids instead. But the more he saved, the more his past haunted him.

“The guilt won’t fade.”

Eventually, he cracked. Smashed stuff, hurt himself, nearly stabbed his adopted kids. So he exiled himself to a shack with tombstones for company.

“The priest tried fixing my mess. Did way better than me.”

Watching the priest’s efforts made Pardar feel…almost redeemed. Which he hated.

“I’m done, Sukui-kun. Living’s agony. Let me die numb.”

Pardar’s eyes begged. Desperate.

“Master…”

Holo tugged Sukui’s sleeve like a puppy fearing bath time. Sukui’s face? Blank as a brick.

“Apologies,” Sukui deadpanned. “My faith’s solid, but right now? I’m basically the priest’s errand boy. Can’t off you yet.”

Pardar’s face crumpled. Holo exhaled relief.

“Thanks for today, Holo-san. We’ve got work tomorrow. Bedtime.”

Sukui walked off, leaving Pardar frozen like a sad grandpa statue.

Night deepened. Pardar shuffled home, then froze.

“Aah.”

Sukui stood in the shadows.

“The garden’s better.”

No expression. Just…practical.

“…Thanks.”

Pardar nodded, regret simmering. He’d dumped too much on the kid.