The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 4 Read online

  <“Stay back!”>

  Just then, a shadowy voice boomed across the Malebranche army.

  In a flash, the incessant attack stopped.

  <“Human girl… You are no ordinary fighter.”>

  It was a Malebranche, one larger than the rest of the horde.

  The leader of this rabble, no doubt. He wore an eyepatch, a rare show of vanity for a demon, and the single long fang arcing from one side of his mouth made him even more conspicuous.

  “Thanks for the compliment. I don’t want to waste energy on an Idea Link, so I’ll stick to human language.”

  <“Twelve hundred of our Malebranche braves…and we have never sustained a single death… No regular human could fight this way. Could you be…?”>

  As he spoke, the Malebranche leader raised his right hand.

  In it was a cheap-looking trinket, like a little girl’s pendant, made of colorful glass.

  The glass suddenly shone a dull purple, then emitted a beam of light straight for Emi.

  “Purple light… Is that…!”

  “Mommy! Yeffod! Behind the shiny thing! Yeffod!!”

  The voice of Alas Ramus, fused into her sword, told Emi that it was no mistake. Then the Malebranche leader, in customary demon fashion, laughed a hearty, evil laugh.

  <“Krah-hah-hah-hah! I never expected to find you so quickly. So you are the bearer of the holy sword, the Hero Emilia Justina?!”>

  The leader’s eyes twinkled, the demonic energy bubbling across his entire body.

  <“If you bear the strength to overcome the Devil King Satan and four of his generals, then I must devote my entire soul to this battle! And when I defeat you, the holy sword shall be mine!”>

  “…No point hiding it.”

  Emi, quite the actor herself, beamed confidently as she thrust her Better Half into the air. “Release yourself, my force, and rid the world of evil!!”

  The shout itself was enough to blow the Malebranche away.

  The hordes feebly struggled to flee, their eyes too weak to take in the golden aura that enveloped her.

  “I want the whole force to retreat, or else somebody’s getting hurt.”

  Her hair was a blue-tinged silver, her eyes scarlet red. Her Cloth of the Dispeller was now fully formed, instantly healing her wounds.

  “For the first time since I came to Japan, my holy blade has reached its second level…and it slices through a lot more than bread, you know.”

  The Better Half had evolved. Grown…better.

  Once a thin, single-handed rapier, the holy sword was now wider, its hilt extended, the wings and Yesod-fragment jewel on it glowing brighter than before.

  <“It is true! The scourge of the Devil King’s force! The Hero of the Holy Sword! Emilia!!”>

  The Malebranche leader loomed face-to-face with Emilia, not betraying a single trace of fear.

  <“I am Ciriatto! The Malebranche has but one chief! For the sake of our departed Malacoda’s will, for the sake of the future of our New Devil King’s Army, I alone shall wrest the holy sword from your hands! All of you, stay back!”>

  As Ciriatto ordered his troops to retreat and stated his name in classic warrior style, Emi brought her Better Half to her face and offered a knight’s salute.

  “Honestly, I’m discovering way too much about demons lately… But I cannot grant you mercy!”

  For a single moment, holy power clashed against demon power above the Pacific Ocean. The Better Half crossed paths with Ciriatto’s black, rigid claw.

  <“Gnnh!”>

  The sword cleanly severed his right claw, sending it to the ocean below.

  “Still up for more?”

  <“Kuh…”>

  A single exchange was all it took for Ciriatto to groan in frustration.

  He was completely unable to follow the path of Emi’s sword with his eyes.

  No one would expect a Malebranche chieftain to beat a foe that archangels couldn’t defeat, but despite facing these overwhelming odds, the warrior refused to budge.

  The holy sword had to be his. It must reach the hands of the New Devil King’s Army, so it may reunite the demon realms and succeed in Ente Isla where the Devil King Satan so regrettably faltered.

  “…You’re really not leaving, huh?”

  <“I am Ciriatto, sole leader of the Malebranche! No demon who would turn away in fear of defeat deserves the title of New Devil King’s Army commander! Orrrhhhh!!”>

  “Whoa! Wait a sec!”

  Emilia found herself asking Ciriatto for a time-out.

  The demon used his remaining claw to neatly shear off the damaged stump on his other arm.

  <“I have no need for such broken, useless weaponry! It will always grow back again!”>

  “Oh, is that how it works?”

  She regretted being impressed by the act.

  “But that doesn’t mean there’s no pain, right? It looks like you’re bleeding. You sure you still want to do this? After losing one of your best weapons?”

  <“Until my blood dries up and my body is torn asunder!”>

  A very old-fashioned approach to warfare.

  Emilia saw zero value to the idea that a fighter only proves his worth once he falls in battle. But if that was how Ciriatto felt, it was Emilia’s job to give the demon the last thing he ever wanted.

  “You better not expect me to just up and kill you.”

  Emilia readied her sword.

  “Huh? Really, Mommy?”

  Alas Ramus noticed Emilia’s change in tactics.

  She was deliberately weakening her sword’s holy energy. It was reverting to its first level, even after so spectacularly reaching its second. In fact, it was almost at the level of a plain, non-magical, decent-enough sword—just barely enough to keep it materialized.

  “It’s easier to keep this on an even footing…”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. The faces of the demons materialized in her mind.

  “…if I don’t want you dead!”

  <“Have at it!”>

  Ciriatto himself lowered the evil force in his left arm down to minimal levels, accepting Emilia’s invitation. Here there would be no fancy magic, just pure battle technique.

  The Hero and the Malebranche leader stared hard into each other’s eyes. The area above the sea grew tense.

  One concern remained with Emilia: She might be able to defeat Ciriatto without striking the lethal blow. But until that moment arrived, she had no idea whether the other Malebranche would accept it.

  There was every chance their leader’s death would whip them into a frenzy.

  If that happened, the overwhelmingly powerful Emilia would be forced to commit a de facto massacre.

  “…I’ve really lost my edge, haven’t I?”

  Emilia took a deep breath to put her feelings in order. Her foe was the Malebranche chieftain, the equal of Malacoda…or perhaps more. One mistake could spell her doom. She would have to consider that moment when it came.

  No battle horn sounded at the start of this fight, a fight climactic enough that it would likely demolish an entire town if conducted on Ente Isla. Instead, the combatants stared each other down, snarling…only to suddenly lift their heads upward.

  Buooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn…

  Buooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnn…

  Buoooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…

  The roar of an ancient dragon ruled the skies.

  If that was all it was, Emilia and Ciriatto would have immediately clashed afterward.

  But the roar summoned the ruler of the white mist that loomed above the water. Emilia turned around. There was nothing but pure white around herself and the Malebranche.

  <“?!”>

  Inside this world of white, a single point of darkness—a large, black something—approached.

  Its presence alone made the fog split apart, forming a path like harried attendants laying a red carpet for their king.

  “‘Ciriatto’? I remember that name. On
e of the Malebranche chieftains beneath Malacoda, I trust.”

  The enormous shadow appeared behind Emilia’s back.

  “But what is the meaning of this? I have heard nothing of this so-called New Devil King’s Army. Who would ever dare to call himself Devil King and rebuild the royal force…without me?”

  <“Who…are…?!”>

  The demon’s questioning voice cracked apart, his neck choked by some unseen hand before he could complete the cry.

  “You have my full permission. Close his mouth… Crush the throat of this insolent Malebranche pretender to the throne.”

  Another sheer black form, making itself known next to the first, enormous shade, pointed an arm at Ciriatto.

  The man—gnarled, forked tail; screeching, grating voice; skin devoid of blood—was racked with anger.

  Before these two sudden threats, the Malebranche army tried its best to fall back. They did not go far.

  “You promised a fight, and now you’re running without so much as an apology? Pathetic. Too pathetic.”

  Another new voice. A young one, his voice like a frigid blade of ice. The Malebranche near the Gate turned to face it.

  He was a small figure, no different from any human.

  But behind him, his wings, darker than any clouded night or inky blackness, kept the Malebranche away from their escape hatch.

  “Ugh… If you’re gonna show up, do it earlier than this. I feel like an idiot getting so worked up now.”

  The force of light addressed the force of twisted darkness, as if discussing what to have for breakfast.

  “Ha-ha! Sorry. I’m a little out of practice.”

  The gigantic shade toward the rear slowly sidled up next to Emilia.

  <“What…ngh…are you…”>

  Ciriatto finally gurgled out the question. As if in reply, a deep, booming voice echoed across the misty realm.

  “Silence! Malebranche warriors! Who do you think you behold?!”

  “Pfft!”

  Emilia snickered at the line. It reminded her of too many of her samurai dramas.

  But it was still enough to make the helplessly struggling Ciriatto freeze in place.

  Before his eyes, a dark avian warrior soared up into the void with a light flapping of his wings.

  <“Ah…D-Devil Regent…Camio…”>

  Ciriatto stared agape at Camio’s form.

  “You! Dare you bare thy fangs at thy master, deluded by the sweet temptations of humankind?”

  <“‘M-Master’…?”>

  In his torment, Ciriatto turned his anguished eyes to the enormous shadow Camio pointed at.

  He wore an avian warrior’s cloak, his massive torso accentuated by his jeweled sword, shining a vibrant dark red. His feet were hoofed. One horn was shattered. And his eyes could strike fear into the hearts of all that live and ever lived.

  <“Ah…no… No…?!”>

  “Malebranche warriors! Bow before your master: Satan, the Devil King!”

  The raspy-voiced man’s flair for drama made Emi snort to herself again. “Uh, are you guys doing that on purpose?”

  <“T-The Devil King?!”>

  <“His Demonic Highness?!”>

  Twelve hundred Malebranche vanguard fighters found themselves awash in a wave of wonder and confusion, the phrase “Devil King” traveling like wildfire across their lips.

  “Oh, great, they’re playing the scared-peasants role perfectly, too, huh?”

  <“Is that the leader of the Eastern Island invasion force… The Great Demon General Alciel?”>

  <“Wh-Why is the Devil Regent here…? Was Lord Satan not felled in battle?”>

  Shock continued to reign among the Malebranche, as:

  “Uh, dude, hello? I’m here? You’re ignoring me? Oh, you’re totally ignoring me!”

  Lucifer’s temper tantrum as he blocked the demon army’s escape made the Malebranche in the rear guard turn around. After a beat, they noticed him.

  <“The fallen general…”>

  <“Lord Lucifer, the Fallen General?!”>

  “I really don’t remember letting anyone call me that, but… Is that the kind of respect Malacoda’s troops gave me? Huh?!”

  Pushed back by Lucifer’s anger, several Malebranche attempted to flee into the rest of the horde.

  “Alciel, let ’im go.”

  A relaxed word or two from Satan was all it took for Alciel to pull back his outstretched arm.

  Ciriatto, released from his choke hold, panted for breath.

  It was so sudden that he floated in the air, bolt upright, trying to regain his bearings.

  His eyes turned left and right. The Hero Emilia. The Devil Regent Camio. Two Great Demon Generals, Alciel and Lucifer.

  And last, but not least:

  <“F-Forgive me for my foolishness, my Devil King!!”>

  Slowly, he fell to his knees at Satan’s feet.

  The rest of the Malebranche humbly followed.

  “Ciriatto. Chief of the Malebranche.”

  The voice of the demonic monolith rumbled.

  <“Y-Yes!”>

  “I do not recall permitting anyone besides Camio to lead my people. What have you been doing in my absence?”

  <“That… I…!”>

  Ciriatto hung his head downward. Satan’s response was surprisingly gentle.

  “Come. Raise your head. If you have something to say for yourself, let me hear it.”

  <“I, I thank you, my liege… We, the Malebranche, under the leadership of Barbariccia, were not merely lured here by a human’s honey-tinged words! We fight for the sake of peace in the demon realms, so that we may obtain the holy sword before those that threaten our homeland—”>

  “Peace in the demon realms?”

  Ciriatto spotted Emilia at the edge of his vision, Better Half at the ready.

  <“Our leader, Barbariccia, merely pretended to agree to the human’s plan. He wished to bring the sword under full control of our—”>

  “How shallow of you!”

  Another rage-laden voice interrupted Ciriatto.

  <“L-Lord Alciel?!”>

  “You were lured here by a single human being—Olba Meiyer, companion to the Hero. If the Malebranche chieftains conferred with one another, they could have easily extracted the necessary information from the human, killed him, and afforded yourself ample time to act. But why did that not happen? Why did you not seek Camio’s royal assent?!”

  <“B-Because…”>

  “Don’t bully him, Alciel.”

  Out of the blue, Ciriatto found an unlikely ally in the Devil King himself.

  “They aren’t stupid enough not to consider that. That’s what Barbariccia probably wanted to do in the first place. But Olba wasn’t that easily taken, and he wasn’t alone in this. Is that what it was?”

  <“…I have no way of expressing my sorrow!”>

  Ciriatto turned his anguished face toward Satan.

  “Ciriatto.”

  <“Ngh…”>

  Then he turned it toward Emilia.

  “That purple stone you had… Can I see it?”

  <“The purple stone…? This?”>

  The keyword made Satan and his generals twitch slightly as well.

  The item in Ciriatto’s hand was a pendant—decorated with a colorless, translucent jewel, not a purple one.

  Despite what Emilia assumed at first, the pendant itself was no Yesod fragment. The jewel was just a jewel. But something to its shine jogged her memory.

  “A Link Crystal…”

  An object that allowed anyone to converse via Idea Link from any distance. In a vague sort of way, the cell phones of Ente Isla.

  “That purple light earlier… Was that from someone on the other side of the Crystal?”

  Not long ago, Emilia stormed the Devil’s Castle on Isla Centurum with her companions, seeking to slay the Devil King who now floated in front of her. She had no way of knowing it at the time, but her holy sword reacted with the seed of Alas Ramus planted near t
he throne room, providing a “guiding light” to her nemesis.

  Emilia thought the glow to her sword was meant to lead her to Satan, but the light was simply the twin Yesod fragments pulling at each other.

  <“All I know is that the sword lies in the direction the light points… Even if this jewel is connected to someplace, I have no idea where.”>

  “…Would you swear it? On my name?”

  Satan’s face was doubtful as he asked. But Ciriatto stood firm.

  <“By the name of my ruler, Lord Satan, I am telling the truth.”>

  Ciriatto turned his pained face away; Satan, looking down at him, looked far more serene.

  “Good. …By the way, the Gate you flew out of… Where is it connected to? Is it a two-way portal?”

  <“The…Gate?”>

  “No, uh, I’d kinda like to kick you guys back to the other side, but I’d feel kind of crappy about it if you came back empty-handed and got punished for it, so…”

  <“My liege, I…er…”>

  Ciriatto’s eyes twinkled in disbelief at his king’s sudden mood shift.

  “Chill out, guys.” Lucifer smiled in the most insincere way possible. “The Devil King’s not out to give you all thirty lashes or anything. Those of you who tried taking on the Hero… Uh, think of it as one of those life lessons, you know? And get well soon!”

  Ciriatto nodded lifelessly.

  “If you want to return to the demon realm…or if that was your intention…we will not stop you. Camio, I order you not to persecute the ‘revenge’ faction of my armies when they return. My realm is in your hands.”

  “Yes, my liege.”

  Camio fell to a deferential knee.

  “Right. Ciriatto. I’m gonna take all you guys back where you need to be. It’ll kinda be a bumpy ride, but deal with it, okay? Camio’ll follow after you.”

  <“Bumpy…?”>

  “And once you’re back home, give everyone a message for me. Tell them that the Devil King Satan is very much alive.”

  “Hey! What are you… Aiigh!”

  Emilia feared Satan was using Ciriatto to drum up morale in the demon realms. But before she could speak up, she shrieked as Satan restrained her by the shoulders.

  Feeling Satan’s solid hands through her Cloth of the Dispeller, she froze, goose bumps erupting across her body.