Chapter 65

Stepping off the Nautilus, Asuero shed tears of emotion as he surveyed his surroundings. A magnificent coastal fortress and a straight, long road greeted him. He whistled as he walked along the smoothly paved path that cut through the dense forest.

A sense of anticipation—a thrilling, rewarding anticipation for the future—filled Asuero’s entire being. He wept as he recalled the arduous life he had endured until now. It was the way of the world for tribulations to befall the righteous and for all manner of falsehoods to assail the honest. All the destitution and frustration he had suffered flashed before his eyes.

Born the son of a poor hidalgo (lower nobility class in Spain), he had become a mercenary to climb the social ladder, working his body to the breaking point for decades. He had wandered endlessly outside his homeland, learning whatever was necessary to survive, be it swordsmanship or anything else. There was a time, when isolated by the enemy, that he had been forced to drink his own urine. He had known suffering like no other.

After enduring all those hardships, he had moved to Florida for a comfortable retirement. And what had he found there? Disgusting savages and insufferably lazy slaves. And, contrary to the colonial government’s promises, it was not a land of fertile soil but a horrific, wild frontier. The rage and despondency had driven him, a good Christian, to commit some ‘minor indiscretions,’ but… the day had finally come when all of it would be rewarded. His suffering had forged this glorious day.

“…This way. If you walk straight ahead, you will come to His ‘palace’.”

“Ah, I have been waiting! My thanks, Lady Dare!”

Asuero shot Eleanor an oily, ingratiating smile. She seemed to wear a look of displeasure, but that only made him feel more delighted. It made him feel like someone more important. After all, he was a guest invited by the indigenous emperor.

The night was already so late that drowsiness should have been descending upon him like starlight, but his eyes were sharp and clear. This was an experience he’d had before, back in his mercenary days when making appointments with employers. Busy and important people often had trouble making time. Therefore, the fact that he and the emperor were meeting at this hour meant the emperor was a busy and important man.

And it means that I am important enough for him to make time for me…!

A new strength filled Asuero Javier’s stride. With each step he took, the green-roofed house in the distance drew closer…

“…”

…Is this it?

He was baffled. No, it was a fine house, to be sure. A well-maintained green gable roof sat atop neat wooden walls; it was a pleasant sight. But… it wasn’t very large. At least, not large enough to be called a palace. In fact, it was a stretch to even call it a mansion. It wasn’t much different in size from the house he had lived in back in Florida.

Ah, well, of course. He’s a savage.

Pfft. 

Asuero smirked. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Exterior walls smoothly coated in gold? A tower as large as a mountain? If a monarch capable of building such a palace existed in this land, wouldn’t both Spain and England already be on their knees? This man was surely just a native chieftain, squatting on a massive pile of gold and aluminum, clueless as to how to use it, living in a shoddily built hut nearby.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He approached what looked like the door and knocked. Suddenly, a sound of brushing metal and a melodic chime emanated from the house, and the door clicked open. Peering inside, he saw a narrow hallway stretching straight ahead, shrouded in silence and darkness. A faint light spilled from a door at the far end.

An unfamiliar but fragrant aroma pricked his nose, and the strange style of the walls and decorations filled the space. A flicker of fear touched Asuero as he stepped inside.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

His boots left muddy prints on the clean floor, but he paid them no mind. He quietly opened the door at the end of the hall… and found himself in an equally modest living room. A small dining table was set in the middle of it. Lobster, roasted beef, and a strange stew were arranged upon it.

And a man was seated behind it. A tall man with black eyes. He extended a large hand, gesturing for him to take the chair opposite. Asuero, feeling an involuntary sense of intimidation, quickly sat down and studied the mysterious native man. Without a word, the man mumbled a brief, almost inaudible prayer and began to eat. Asuero had expected a savage who would tear at his food with his hands, but that wasn’t the case. He gracefully lifted a fork and brought a slice of meat to his lips.

Asuero followed his lead, putting a piece of beef in his mouth. But he was so nervous he couldn’t taste a thing. His hands trembled.

“Should I… address you as Your Majesty?”

“…”

The man remained silent at Asuero’s question, offering only a smile.

“…Your Majesty, thank you for inviting me to this place.”

“…”

“I… uh… have always held a deep abhorrence for slavery. And so, to have met Your Majesty, who shares my thoughts, I can only thank the Lord…”

“The Lord?”

“…Pardon?”

“Did you say you thank the Lord?”

His Spanish was perfectly fluent, as if he were a man born and raised in Castile.

“…Ah, yes, that’s right. I thank the Lord.”

“For what, might I ask?”

“Why… of course, because the Lord has allowed me to meet with Your Majesty…”

Something was wrong. The shape of his mouth and the words coming out of it were slightly different. His mouth, as it formed the Spanish words, felt unnatural, as if another person’s lips had been superimposed over his own. And yet, the Spanish that emerged from his mouth was… perfect.

A sense of dread began to creep in from this dissonance, this unnaturalness. Yes. This house, the shape of this table, it was all utterly unfamiliar. In this intensely bizarre atmosphere, Asuero was so tense that the food would not go down his throat. All the while, the emperor simply continued to smile.

“I am glad to hear you thank the Lord. I, too, feel nothing but gratitude toward Him.”

“I-i-is that so?”

“Yes. You came to this house alone, did you not?”

“…Does that please you?”

“Of course. Does the Lord not rejoice when even one lost sheep is found?”

“…”

A lost… sheep? Was that the right metaphor here? Was he referring to the fact that he had been a slave owner who had repented? Or… no. I shouldn’t think strange thoughts.

A bell chimed in the distance, marking the time as well past eleven o’clock. Eleven at night. Why had he summoned him at such a late hour? Was his original assumption correct? Why did he…

“Why did you do it?”

Here, Asuero’s thoughts came to a halt. No, it felt as if the entire world had stopped for a moment. The juices dripping from the meat, the leaves flying past the narrow living room window, the table that had been wobbling slightly from an imbalance. And the eyes of the Indian emperor, now glaring at him. All of it stopped for a split second… and then moved again.

“…Pardon?”

Asuero was not a stupid man. But even knowing what the emperor meant, he couldn’t help but ask foolishly.

“I simply do not understand. You freed all your slaves, you say? Why come here with such a lie? Would it not have been enough to say you had mistreated your slaves but had a change of heart?”

How… how could he know?

“If you had, you would still be a sinner, an undeniable sinner, but I would have considered it. I might even have forgiven you. You could have received a field and a house in this land and lived happily. No, on second thought, considering why you left Florida in the first place, that was never going to happen.”

No. The important thing now wasn’t ‘how did he know?’

“You were dissatisfied with your life in Florida, were you not? You wanted to win the favor of a wealthy native emperor and enjoy a rich life, did you not? From the beginning, you had no will to repent, no conscience in your heart, so all of this is a meaningless question.”

The important thing now was ‘how do I get out of this?’

“You will receive your punishment here. So speak for the last time. I will give you a chance. A chance to say that you intend to apologize to the slaves you trapped in your cellar, a chance to say you repent of your own sins—”

Asuero was no longer listening. He glanced around, looking for guards, but the house was silent and empty. There was no one else here. If… if I act now. If I can just eliminate the ‘witness’ and escape. Then I can buy enough time to flee safely back to Florida. Asuero tightened his grip on the knife he was holding. 

Even seeing this, the ’emperor’ continued to speak, calmly slicing his meat. “Attempting to deceive me is the least of your sins. Your sin is—”

“Aaaaargh!”

He would pay the price for his arrogance! Asuero shot up from his seat and, with the knife in his hand, repeated the act he had performed countless times as a mercenary. He sliced not meat, but man.

Shunk.

The knife pierced the emperor’s throat. The emperor’s eyes widened in pain…

“…!”

CRACK!

He surged to his feet, grabbed Asuero’s throat, and slammed him into a bookshelf.

CRASH!

The bookshelf toppled, sending books scattering in every direction. A dark picture frame shattered, a flower vase exploded into pieces, and shards of pottery flew everywhere. The table broke, the floor was scratched and gouged, and everything in the room was thrown from its place and destroyed.

“Die! Die! Just die!”

In the midst of the violent struggle, Asuero frantically stabbed at the emperor’s vital points. Despite the agony, the emperor did not release his grip on Asuero’s neck. With each passing moment, Asuero grew more terrified, stabbing and slashing wildly at the emperor’s body.

And then…

Sssslither…

Time was on Asuero’s side. After being slammed against the wall and crushed under the bookshelf several more times, the emperor’s body went limp and he collapsed, drained of blood.

“M-monster! Fucking hell, I thought I was going to… hack… kaak!” Cough. Cough. Asuero spat a glob of phlegm onto the floor, his own throat ruined from the emperor’s grip. Unbelievable. To hold on for that long. Was this the kind of martial prowess that gave him the confidence to meet me alone, without a single guard? But he was a fool. What kind of idiot emperor greets a stranger without a single soldier by his side?

Asuero frantically searched the house for valuables, stuffing them into his pockets. He turned toward the door and twisted the handle… Clank! Clank! …It wouldn’t open. He had to get out. He had to get out of this house right now, but where…

‘The window!’

Asuero threw back the curtains and hurled a chair, shattering the window. Outside, a peaceful and idyllic vineyard stretched out before him. …It’s fine. Everything went wrong, but it’s fine for now. It was still quiet around; no one had noticed. All he had to do was grab a few more valuables and slip out. Then, he would use those treasures as proof. Proof that he had killed the Indian emperor, that he had done it. Then, the wealth and glory he had longed for would be waiting for him. Now, he just had to grab a boat and return to Florida… huh?

They were gone. Asuero checked his pockets. The pottery shards and the aluminum statue he had just shoved in were all gone. Asuero blinked.

Dong. Dong. Dong.

The midnight bell tolled. And Asuero saw. He saw a ‘miracle.’

The broken shards of glass floated into the air, fitting themselves back together piece by piece. The reassembled pane of glass then slotted itself back into the window frame. The toppled bookshelf rose on its own, untouched by any hand. The scattered books arranged themselves and settled back onto its shelves. The cracks in the picture frame mended themselves, disappearing as if a wound had healed. The broken neck of a statue reattached itself. The overturned chair stood itself up, and the mud on the floor suddenly dissolved as if melting away.

It was as if this ‘palace’… were alive. As if it were slowly healing its wounds.

“Th-this is… the work of a demon.”

Everything was moving as if time were flowing backward. If that was the case… then surely…

“…Your greatest sin is not that you deceived me. Nor is it that you deceived the Lord.”

Clink.

“You deceived your own soul. ‘If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us[1].’ You cast out the Lord from within your own heart.”

The moment he heard his ‘voice,’ Asuero’s mind went blank. He could no longer move, no longer breathe. His body frozen like stone, Asuero managed only to turn his head.

There, on the tabletop that had been shattered moments ago, upon a tablecloth that should have been torn. He was slicing his meat, just as before. As if nothing had ever happened. Yes. He wished that the entire previous moment had been a dream. That, in fact, nothing had occurred…

“Sit back down,” the ’emperor’ said. He spoke in a voice of absolute ice. “It is dinnertime.”

Everything in the living room had returned to how it was before midnight. But his fate had crossed a river from which there was no return. Asuero, having lost even the will to resist, collapsed to the floor.

The emperor chewed a piece of meat. Yes. Meat. Like that meat, I am nothing but a piece of meat. A piece of meat that is sliced when a knife enters it, that bleeds red. I am a handful of dust. Just as an ant is crushed by the finger of a child, I am powerless before him. My life is more worthless than that of a fly. Yes.

“…D-demon.” It is vanity… all is vanity. “The power… of a demon…”

He was just a man. “To… deceive those who dwell on the earth, and to tell them to make an idol for the beast who was wounded by the sword and yet lived…!” But he was not a man. If he was not a man, he must be an angel or a demon. One who died and came back to life, you must be the power of the demon, the beast of the demon. No, you have to be the beast of the demon.

“The power of the demon! The beast of the demon! B-be gone! Be gone! Fucking be gone!” Asuero frantically pulled a dagger from his clothes and held it up at the strange, nonsensical being who was silently looking down on him. He wasn’t trying to stab him.

“L-Lord! Lord! Please! Cast out this demon. Please, please, glory, upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it. F-f-fuck!” His hands trembled violently. He held the daggers in both hands to form a cross. “Power of Hades, be gone! G-g-go away, I said!” Please, let this holy symbol drive away this wicked being. Please, I-I have never been lazy in my worship. Please, please…! “How dare you defile a ch-child of the Lord…”

“You dare call yourself a child of the Lord?”

Hearing those words, Asuero’s mind went numb. ‘He’ was walking toward him nonchalantly. Asuero thrust out the cross made of daggers, and he…

“…What? I-I, I was baptized, and, I, I, I go to confession every week.”

“What does it matter that you were baptized? What does it matter that you went to confession?”

“Uh… uhhh…?”

He gripped the blades that formed the cross. Blood flowed. It dripped, drop by drop, onto the floor. Still gripping the blades, he snatched the daggers from Asuero and tossed them aside. Then, he held out both his hands for him to see. They were clean. As if… the cross had refused to harm him.

Asuero squeezed his eyes shut.

“Look at me.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t look. He had to be a demon.

“Look. At my eyes.”

He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see how pathetic and worthless he was, reflected in those eyes.

“Asuero Javier!”

But at that shout, Asuero’s eyes shot open as if he were receiving a royal command.

“Ah… Aaaah…”

And he saw. He was…

“Uwaaaah… No, it can’t be. You, you, a savage emperor, there’s no way…”

“…”

“…”

He wept like a guilty child.