#4
Upon his return, Hereis was secretly brought to trial. From the moment of his birth, Hereis had been blessed with divine love. The abundant divinity imbued within his body and the countless miracles he could perform bore testament to this fact. Ironically, despite having transgressed against divine law, Hereis’s body still overflowed with sacred power.
On the day his punishment was to be determined, the high priests vehemently condemned the sins of his sister, who had dared to take the life bestowed upon her by God. They cursed her, declaring she would fall into the fiery pits of hell and suffer for eternity. Not a trace of the benevolence that the high priests, whom the people devoutly trusted and relied upon, supposedly possessed could be found.
Their intentions were crystal clear. They sought to trample and seize everything Hereis had enjoyed as God’s favorite, endowed with divinity from birth, within the temple. The jealousy they usually concealed deep within, unable to reveal it, was now brazenly brought forth. Wielding his sister’s death as a sword, they mercilessly lacerated Hereis’s heart, soul, and reputation.
As he alone endured the verbal swords they wielded, Hereis prayed to God. He begged for all the abundant divinity bestowed upon him to be stripped away, right then and there. Yet, God continued to love Hereis. This unconditional love, reserved only for those He cherished, felt utterly horrifying.
Hereis, borrowing God’s power, slaughtered the high priests who swarmed like hyenas. Most of them were, in any case, steeped in inertia, corrupt and depraved, hiding behind the name of God. He felt not a speck of hesitation or guilt.
There was a bishop who, having fallen for a merchant’s wife at first sight, had falsely accused her husband of a crime he never committed, orchestrated his death, and then taken the wife as his concubine. Hereis severed the bishop’s vile tongue and lopped off his flailing arms.
Crimson blood spurted into the air, defiling God’s holy temple.
“Ugh-oh-oh-oh!”
Taking the blood-curdling scream that gushed from the bishop’s tongueless, empty mouth as his macabre music, Hereis sliced open his belly. As the man frantically tried to scoop his spilling intestines back in, no trace of a holy priest could be discerned in his desperate struggle.
“Hereis! You mad… *cough*!”
Hereis plunged his sword deep into the gut of the old archbishop, who was pointing a trembling finger and shouting. The old man’s decrepit body was utterly incapacitated by that single blow. The blood gushing from the gaping wound in the archbishop’s stomach—the same archbishop who had demolished hundreds of impoverished commoners’ homes under the pretense of ‘purifying’ the sacred temple’s surroundings, only to erect his own lavish mansion upon their ruins—was as crimson as the tears of blood shed by the people due to his wicked deeds.
“S-save me! Stop him! Stop that madman!”
As the old man thrashed on his back, Hereis brought his weapon down onto the foul member between his legs. The old man, who had countless times molested and violated devout and talented young priests under the guise of being their mentor, now saw his crotch turn a sickening crimson. That color, too, was as red as the tears of the young priest who had taken their own life, unable to bear the shame.
Even as he killed one, then two, then three, God’s love remained unwavering.
All the while, the swords of the Holy Knights, imbued with divine power, ceaselessly slashed, stabbed, and tore at Hereis. Yet, Hereis, brimming with divine power, did not fall or perish; instead, he continued to swing his sword without end.
Swords charged with divine power effortlessly severed the necks, arms, legs, and torsos of the Holy Knights. Even the Captain of the Holy Knights had his head instantly lopped off the moment he thrust his sword into Hereis’s chest.
Thus, amidst a colossal pool of blood and scattered flesh, Hereis stood alone and defiant.
Hereis lifted his gaze, staring at the ceiling, which was densely covered with sacred paintings.
Having lost so much blood, his vision blurred faintly. The sacred images no longer registered in Hereis’s eyes.
Hereis lowered his gaze.
His body, ceaselessly stabbed, slashed, and torn by the Holy Knights’ swords, hung in tattered shreds like a rag. His arms, grotesquely twisted like those of a trampled doll, were miraculously still attached to his body. From a long gash in his side, his intestines squirmed and protruded. The hilt of the sword, deeply embedded by the Captain of the Holy Knights, jutted out from his chest. His legs, too, were horrifically gashed and mangled, rendered utterly useless.
Despite all this, Hereis was still alive and breathing.
A body that should have collapsed to the floor and perished instantly, instead leaned on the abundant divine power, swaying precariously like a broken puppet, yet still standing.
It was God’s will.
God remained unfair to the very end. He loved only what He chose to love. Towards the sins committed by His beloved, He was infinitely lenient.
Nothing had changed.
Even after slaughtering them, Hereis remained God’s favorite, while his innocent, pitiable sister was still branded a sinner burdened with eons of transgressions.
“Ha… hahaha…. Hahahaha….”
A hollow, desolate laugh echoed through the blood-soaked space.
“Hahaha—hahaha…!”
Hereis laughed and laughed, like a madman.
Hot tears soon turned to tears of blood, streaming down Hereis’s cheeks.
Offering the blood of the ‘noble’ priests as a sacrifice, Hereis summoned the most wicked entity in the world. If God would not withdraw His love, no matter what sins were committed, then Hereis would simply become utterly corrupt and defile His name. He believed that this was the path to vengeance against God.
Tantarossa of Madness and Slaughter.
Barbassas of Arrogance and Greed.
Bellarossa of Sloth and Corruption.
Among the three Demon Kings who shared the power of the Demon God, Bellarossa of Sloth and Corruption was the one whom no one in history had ever succeeded in summoning, not even once.
There could be no one more fitting to lead Hereis down the path of corruption. Hereis smiled joyfully at the Demon King who had appeared before him. And he fervently wished for him to defile this body, which was so beloved by God.
Hereis slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. The light streaming in was blindingly bright. He blinked, feeling a liquid trickle down his temples.
As his vision cleared, he saw the ceiling. It was an unfamiliar ceiling, yet the densely painted sacred images told him he was inside the temple.
Hereis fumbled through his hazy memories. He had stolen his sister’s body, buried it, and returned to the temple. Then he faced trial. Surrounded by priests, he was interrogated about the location of his sister’s corpse. And then….
“…Ah.”
Hereis uttered a vacant sound.
He drew a Holy Knight’s sword and cut down those before him. Using God’s power, he cut, and cut, and cut again, until none remained. He killed all of God’s servants and cursed God. Then he summoned ‘him’. He chanted the forbidden spell, hidden deep within the Grand Temple. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but it didn’t matter. If he could just inflict even a slight insult upon God, that would be enough. And then ‘he’ appeared.
“—Bellarossa of Sloth and Corruption.”
Hereis murmured the name of the one he had summoned.
Bellarossa, however, was vastly different from the descriptions found in ancient texts. The Demon King of Sloth and Corruption appeared as a young man with black hair and black eyes. Emerging from the crimson pool of blood, he stood tall, seemingly indifferent to the carnage that had just unfolded.
“Are you the Demon King?”
Standing tall amidst the red blood and corpses that littered the floor, Bellarossa stared at Hereis with eyes so deep and black they seemed to draw him in.
“Are you, the Demon King?”
When Hereis stepped closer and asked again, Bellarossa nodded.
Hereis smiled joyfully. Bellarossa of Sloth and Corruption!
“Demon King, please… defile me.”
This sacred body, which enjoyed God’s unyielding love and power even after he had relentlessly cut down countless servants of God and cursed His name, would be defiled and corrupted. And through this body, he would insult God.
Demon King Bellarossa nodded slowly. Hereis smiled joyfully once more, then sealed his oath with a kiss to the Demon King.
After that, he remembered nothing.
Hereis sat up and examined his body. The wounds inflicted by the Holy Knights were gone, his body completely healed without a single scratch, as if nothing had ever happened. This was likely the result of the high-powered healing of the priests combined with Hereis’s own divine power.
Hereis unbuttoned his shirt. Nothing was etched onto his pale left chest. Yet, as Hereis gazed at his chest, the symbol representing Bellarossa of Sloth and Corruption faintly glowed, as if revealing its presence, before fading back into his skin. He had truly made a contract with him.
Hereis traced the symbol of the Demon King over his heart, a chilling smile gracing his lips. Even now, bearing the Demon King’s mark and bound by contract, God’s love still surged throughout Hereis’s entire being.
Ah, unfair God.
Now, I shall defile that name, smear it with filth, and spit upon it again and again.
*Knock. Knock.*
A knock echoed. Hereis neatly buttoned his shirt and looked towards the door. An young acolyte entered.
“Bishop Hereis?! You’re awake!”
The young acolyte’s face overflowed with joy and surprise.
“Oh, God! Thank you!”
The young acolyte exclaimed, clasping his hands together with an emotional expression.
‘God!’
That word, heard hundreds, thousands of times a day, grated on his ears. But the irritation was worth enduring. For now, he had Bellarossa of Sloth and Corruption.