─Depends on the situation.
Frondier said that to Elodie.
That the probability of killing one of the 72 Demons was extremely low.
In fact, even his current attack had only managed to knock the enemy out.
But at the same time, Frondier thought,
'But that’s not how it’ll look to Elodie.'
Just now, Antero had collapsed under the demon’s power. Whether he was unconscious or dead was unclear.
Of course, Elodie’s mana detection would figure it out soon enough, but the momentary shock was real.
Indeed. Elodie was genuinely startled—right after Frondier had just reassured her.
So from Bael’s perspective, he could see Elodie’s expression.
Elodie’s face, clearly showing she hadn’t expected Frondier’s action at all.
'This crazy bastard...!'
Bael clenched his teeth.
Judging from Elodie’s face, Frondier’s move wasn’t something they had agreed upon. No, it was probably the exact opposite of what they had planned.
An impulsive act that ignored whatever they’d discussed before coming here together.
'This won’t do. This guy’s out of his mind!'
Frondier’s face remained calm, languid, peaceful, unhurried—every adjective that could ever fit Frondier applied perfectly to that face.
Bael had long given up trying to read emotions from that expression. There was no way to tell if that face meant serenity or rage. What he could rely on wasn’t Frondier’s expression, but his actions.
And Frondier had shown it through his actions.
That if someone spouted nonsense one more time, the consequences would be severe.
'My anger toward Pielot is real.'
Frondier had never felt such prolonged fury in his life.
Probably because he still hadn’t been able to do anything about the main culprit, Caron.
Naturally, that anger should have been directed at Caron, not Bael—and Frondier knew that better than anyone.
'But you wouldn’t know that, Bael.'
Bael was worrying about whether the fire would spread to him.
Then let’s make that worry come true.
Let’s make use of my own anger.
“Bael. Right now I have dozens of ways to make you spill information, and three ways to obtain it whether you talk or not.”
Frondier raised a finger. At his gesture, Heukcheon moved.
Whoosh.
Heukcheon caught the fallen Antero and bound him against the wall.
“I guarantee you, it’s in your best interest that I don’t use a single one of those methods.”
He spoke as he restrained Antero—making it clear that one of those methods involved him.
Bael’s pupils trembled for a moment. He seemed to think for a bit before speaking.
“...Frondier.”
“Bael. Before you speak, one thing.”
Frondier stopped him again.
“Be very careful with your next words. That one sentence will decide what I do next.”
“......”
An arrogant statement. Even if he possessed greater power, speaking that way to someone who held the information he needed was overbearing.
But Bael knew Frondier’s situation.
That his group had been in danger, and his disciple had been hurt.
Frondier wasn’t speaking from calculation—his anger was slipping beyond control, making his words harsh.
...Or at least, that’s what Frondier wanted Bael to think.
“I’ll admit everything.”
Bael raised both hands as he spoke.
How very demon-like—considering it came right after Frondier’s warning, it was a decent answer.
“I made a deal with Caron. I provided him with information about you. But I never intended to trouble you. All we wanted was to return ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) to the demon realm.”
“Let’s start from there, then.”
Thud.
Frondier released Antero from Heukcheon. The unconscious man slumped back to the floor.
Depending on Bael’s answer just now, Antero could very well have died—that alone said enough.
Frondier seated Elodie on a nearby chair and sat beside her. Elodie fidgeted slightly, uneasy.
Frondier spoke.
“You provoked the gods, expanding their attack range to include Satan, didn’t you?”
“So you figured that out. Correct. Though it wasn’t just Satan—it was all of the Seven Deadly Sins.”
“And if the gods truly began a war, then what?”
Bael sighed.
“What else? That would be the end.”
“You had no guarantee that it wouldn’t happen?”
“Not exactly a guarantee—more like, all demons share a kind of faith.”
Faith?
That curious word made Frondier listen more closely.
Bael said,
“Satan never loses. That’s the faith.”
“...Hoh.”
The Demon of Wrath, Satan.
Frondier recalled that face from their first encounter.
'Never loses, huh. For someone who says that, he took quite a loss from me, didn’t he?'
Much of Satan’s plan had fallen apart because of Frondier—from the mana injection incident to the failed infighting among demons.
Even Mei, the disaster born of some experiment in the demon realm, was now at Frondier’s side.
Not to mention, many of Satan’s subordinates had died—surely that was a loss.
'Or maybe, from Satan’s perspective, this much doesn’t even count as a loss.'
As if reading Frondier’s thoughts, Bael continued.
“Of course, it’s only faith. Even Satan can’t always profit. But if ‘the one who laughs last is the winner’ is an unchanging truth, then victory always belongs to Satan.”
“Even if he suffers losses now, he’ll turn it into profit in the end?”
At Frondier’s words, Bael nodded.
“And Satan doesn’t make mistakes in crucial decisions. He’d never plan to start an all-out war between gods and demons.”
Frondier let out a short laugh.
“So basically, you handled the planning, and left all the real decisions to Satan.”
And that Satan happened to be Bael’s enemy.
There was no way Bael, returning to the demon realm, could get along with Satan. The resentment toward Satan, who had abandoned Agoris and fled, must have piled up through the long years he’d stayed there.
Bael shook his head.
“That’s why I didn’t want to do it. Not this operation.”
“You really want to return to the demon realm that badly? Is it worth waging war against the gods? I thought you were getting by well enough here.”
When Frondier had first set foot on Agoris, he had gone to the demons’ country.
It was vast—almost on par with Palma—and already had an advanced civilization. Well, it had to be that large to house so many demons.
“You could just keep living there. Doesn’t look like Palma would even dare to touch you.”
During his time teaching at Atlas, Frondier had gauged the average human combat ability.
From the standard Atlas students to the so-called strongest, the Paladin. Paladin Antero was a pitiful excuse for a warrior, but the demon Bune possessing him was undeniably strong. That must be what a true Paladin was meant to be.
Still, even a Paladin was hardly enough to fight demons. Which meant, from a demon’s perspective, Agoris was a perfectly livable place—no threatening humans around.
“We built that nation as a situational choice. It wasn’t what we wanted.”
“Building a nation was the problem?”
“Exactly. It made us easy targets for the gods.”
Frondier understood those words.
On the Falind continent, demons lived mingled among humans.
That made it harder for gods to interfere directly.
Humans and demons were indistinguishable—and if a god struck at a demon, it could damage divine faith.
More than that, the demons hiding in Falind were few and weak. There wasn’t much reason to go after them—except maybe for someone like Ria Liss.
But Agoris was different.
A land where demons had built a nation of their own.
If a god smote demons there, humans would raise their hands in praise.
“So from our point of view, we had to leave this land before the gods’ reach extended here.”
“...Whichever way you go, if it means fighting the gods, it’s better to have at least one option, huh.”
Even if that option meant entrusting everything to their eternal enemy, Satan.
Frondier paused in thought, then spoke again, still wearing an expression of disbelief.
“That’s what I find most curious, Bael.”
“What?”
“If a war with the gods really broke out, how exactly would the gods fight?”
It wasn’t easy for demons to manifest in this world either, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult as it was for gods.
Demons had the method of contracting with humans, and that process had left plenty of them remaining in Agoris.
And someone like Belphegor could even possess a human body.
'But gods are different. Descending is difficult—for both humans and the gods themselves.'
If it were easy, Frondier would’ve died long ago. Before he gained this much power, the gods could’ve killed him dozens of times.
It was because of this question that Frondier had asked Elodie earlier.
Weaving was a clear blasphemy against the gods. Elodie had declared there were no exceptions to that.
Which meant the gods hadn’t chosen not to kill Frondier—they simply couldn’t.
Yet Bael feared a war with the gods.
So how could the gods possibly reach all the way to Agoris to smite demons?
“...You mean you don’t know?”
But Bael’s reaction was strange.
As if it were unbelievable that Frondier didn’t know.
That surprise, in turn, surprised Frondier.
“Why didn’t he tell you? As far as I know, that guy’s right by your side...”
“Who are you talking about?”
Before answering, Bael brought his hand to his lips. His pupils flicked left to right repeatedly, as though rewinding his thoughts from the start.
Frondier frowned at the sight.
“Who didn’t tell me what? Who by my side could possibly—”
[How we wage war, you mean?]
A voice suddenly came from beside Frondier.
From the chair where Elodie sat—Elodie, still seated.
Elodie propped her chin on one hand, gazing at him.
[Like this, my child.]
She said to Frondier.
[Hello. First time meeting, isn’t it?]
Elodie.
Elodie de Inies Lishaé.
The Child of Heaven loved by five gods.
[My name is Vishnu.]
Frondier didn’t answer that introduction.
He simply parsed the sudden flood of information invading the current situation.
[One of the gods who loves Elodie the least, actually.]
“...You possessed her.”
[Correct. Well, as expected of Elodie, I can’t stay in her body for long. I’ll have to cut it off soon.]
“...So this ‘war’—you mean using humans imbued with divine power...”
[To unleash that divine power against demons and trigger Pandemonium. It’s the simplest kind of war.]
Frondier’s hand moved.
His fingers shaped like a gun, pointed straight at Elodie.
Vishnu laughed and waved her hand dismissively.
[Ahaha. I don’t plan on starting a war. I don’t even think I could beat you. Your soul’s strength is immense. I’m just here as an informant, that’s all.]
“...Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Vishnu shrugged—shamelessly.
And seeing Elodie’s body move that way made an unbearable killing urge surge inside Frondier.
[I wasn’t the only one staying silent. Elodie has five gods, remember?]
“...You dare call that an excuse—”
[And it’s not that I refused to speak. I just thought my turn wouldn’t come.]
“Your turn?”
Vishnu smiled faintly.
Elodie’s eyes curved with that smile.
[Athena, you see.]
“...What?”
[You have Medusa by your side, don’t you? Or as you call her—Carla. Her god, Athena. I figured she’d be the one to tell you.]
Frondier froze at those words. His hand slowly lowered.
─Caron knows far more than Bael realizes.
─From the beginning, someone who understood Menosorpo told Caron...
[But seeing as she hasn’t said anything.]
Athena.
The Goddess of Wisdom who cursed and condemned Medusa.
[Now I’m curious where Carla is right about now.]
