Eight years after the Demon King's defeat. In a village in the Greze Forest, Central Countries.
I read the book in my hand silently, methodically. Not a grimoire, but a legal text. I've read it countless times, yet it reveals something new. I wouldn't have noticed before. It means I've changed. Himmel would call it growth. I don't know what it is to me. Memories surface—early days under his command, borrowing books here. A blink for demons, but dense, nostalgic time for me. As I ponder—
"Tea, Aura-sama?"
"…Thank you, I'll take it."
A familiar human, the village chief, offers a teacup. Of course—it's his house, his study I'm intruding upon. He could ignore me, but he engages. Humans are foolish—or idle. Though, my quick reply might mean I'm no better.
"No '-sama,' please. It throws me off."
"Oh? I heard they call you that in the Holy City."
"…Yes. A nuisance."
I sigh at the reality. In the Holy City, that scheming priest's ploy—or strategy—has me visiting regularly, sometimes staying briefly. Now, people there constantly add "-sama." A nightmare. It's different here in the village. There, their gazes hold a kind of loyalty, like at my first trial. It's probably faith. My use of the obedience spell Azelieuze for mock trials must be why. Humans worshipping a demon like me—how foolish. I don't know if it's that priest's plan, but it's maddening to be caught in it.
"Where's Linie?"
"Lily's watching her. She's too noisy to read around."
I sip the tea. Linie's not here—I left her at home, technically on "house duty." Lily was visiting, so I entrusted her. My home has a study, but Linie makes reading impossible. Escaping here has become my routine.
"I see. Parenting's tough… or, your subordinate?"
"Close enough for you humans. I rely on Lily and Shtro."
"And we rely on you, Aura-sama. Mutual, isn't it?"
Not following that musclehead's advice, but it works. Just rephrasing words, yet humans react differently. The chief probably humors me knowingly.
Time passes quickly for humans. Lily and Shtro, once Linie's age, are nearly adults. Lily's especially adept, better at handling Linie than I am. Shtro's changed too—he's stopped flipping skirts, claiming he's "graduated." Yet, Linie's started doing it herself, a habit I struggled to correct. Now she's learning from the chief, aiming to be a priest or something. I don't get what's fun about that.
The chief's no exception. Already old, he's aging faster. I won't say it, but he knows his time's short. Humans' lives are brief, yet they waste it on nonsense. I'll never understand.
"What are you researching? Something troubling even you, Aura-sama?"
"I'm studying malice. Demons don't understand it."
The chief, perhaps reading my silence, asks. Priests must all be like this. I answer, exasperated.
Malice.
That's the word, the concept I'm exploring. Following atonement and family, it's another thing demons can't grasp.
"Why malice?"
"It comes up in trials. 'With malice,' 'without malice'—it changes sentencing. I don't get it. The result's the same."
I shouldn't care, but trials in the Holy City force the issue. Malice or not alters punishment for the same crime. I barely grasp sin, let alone malice. Rereading legal precedents, I still can't see the difference.
"Not for eating or instinct, but to hurt others—I don't understand. Why bother?"
Malice-driven actions, like discrimination, are pointless. Humans fight over birthplace, residence, gender. Why? The strong rule, the weak obey. Why can't they stick to that?
"Worst are the priests. They preach equality but don't judge fairly."
The Holy City's priests are the epitome. They tout the Goddess's teachings yet indulge in power struggles and bribery—malice, apparently. Can't they even use a scale properly?
"Have you asked Heiter-sama?"
"Many times. He just laughs it off. Typical scheming priest. Do you understand, chief?"
I pressed Heiter, but he dodged as always. It's probably hard to explain to me. That's why I'm here. If Heiter can't, maybe the chief can. Simple reasoning.
"It's likely fear of what's different."
His answer, after some thought, remains incomprehensible.
"Fear? That makes no sense. Why hurt what scares you? It's contradictory."
Fear—terror—tied to malice? But why harm what you fear? It risks danger. Utterly contradictory.
"Perhaps. But that's human nature. We're frail individually, so we exclude what's different. Demons, complete as individuals, wouldn't understand."
Humans are weak—true. Compared to demons, they're fragile, so they band together. A pack mentality demons lack. Does that breed malice? If so, it's natural we don't have it.
"But maybe that's for the best. If demons had malice, we humans might've been wiped out."
The chief murmurs, almost to himself. If I take it literally, he means malice would've ensured demons' victory in the war. I don't get it. Malice wouldn't change that outcome.
"That's no answer."
"Just ramblings. Don't mind me. But not understanding malice isn't bad. It means fairness, equality—perfect for the Scales, Aura-sama."
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
He dodges, too. Maybe they don't understand malice either. Why lacking it means fairness escapes me. All I know is he wanted to say my title, "Scales." As Heiter and that rotten hero planned, my old title "Guillotine" is being overwritten. I don't care what humans call me, but their quick shift is almost admirable.
"No such thing. Lacking malice means purity. Look, here comes its embodiment."
"What?"
"—Aura-sama!"
Before I can ask, the door bursts open. That bundle of energy arrives. Pure, maybe, but there's a limit. She hasn't grown at all. Having Lily and Shtro around makes it more obvious.
"Linie? I told you to stay home. Where's Lily?"
"Sorry… Big Sis. Linie insisted."
Lily follows, breathless. No wonder—Linie's a handful, even for me or Himmel. She's a demon, after all. Or maybe that's irrelevant. Oblivious to our struggles—
"Aura-sama! Himmel and the others are back!"
Linie, excited, reports as a loyal subordinate. She forgot her orders in her zeal. I'm at a loss as her master, but more importantly, Himmel's back? His trip was supposed to be long—nearly a month. No letter, either. But above all—
"Himmel… and the others?"
Her words feel off, an extra piece attached. What does it mean?
"You've grown, Linie."
Heiter's familiar, scheming voice soon makes it clear.
"No, I haven't."
"Five centimeters since we got here."
Linie stretches to show off. I'm exasperated. We're back home, dragged by Linie. There, Himmel and his group awaited. One of them, smirking before me, is that shady priest.
"Impressive. In fifty years, you'll tower over everyone."
"You'll be dead by then, Candy Priest."
"Hahaha! Don't say that. Bad kids get no candy."
"…I love Heiter."
"No choice, then."
"Total grandchild."
Linie's completely under Heiter's spell. He's a con artist—or maybe she's conning him. Bought off with apple-flavored candy from his sleeve. Is he really a priest? Eisen, another visitor, looks just as exasperated. He hasn't changed either.
"Warn me if you're bringing them, Himmel."
"Sorry. Heiter sprung it on me."
"It's fine. Rare chance to visit."
"You don't act like a guest."
I grumble at Himmel, who seems amused. Heiter defends himself, Eisen jabs back. Without that elf, it's incomplete, but this is the hero's party now. My daily life with these inescapable ties.
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