I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

Chapter 234: 234. Abyssal Holy War – Wave of Despair (3)

Episode 234. Abyssal Holy War – Wave of Despair (3)

The Abyss Corporation's main force, in a standoff with the Allied Forces.

“Excellent, Lord Paimon. Their morale seems to be broken already. To think you would make the humans submit without even a fight, it is truly astonishing!”

Paimon smiled with satisfaction.

Among all the demons, he prided himself on understanding humans better than anyone.

It was a method he had learned by relentlessly observing and digging into the actions of Marquis Lafayette, the man who had brought down the Germania Imperial Army.

The art of shaking the enemies’ hearts, breaking their morale, and crushing them to seize victory.

However, they had the card known as the succubus, and because of that, they could use this method even more effectively than humans.

At first, it had been a bit annoying when Gremory was uncooperative about incorporating the succubi into the unit and handing over command authority, but it was a good thing he’d borrowed Baal’s influence to get it done.

“But of course. Good effort, Stolas. I'll leave the negotiations to you as well.”“How could I not?”

After Stolas withdrew, Paimon remained reclined in his chair with a leisurely attitude, savoring his wine.

He was terribly curious what kind of expression Pierre was making right about now.

Imagining his expression felt as if a taste more sublime than any delicacy was mixed with the wine, sweetly caressing his tongue.

What must his feelings be right now?

He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to have the very methods he used turned back on him, but in a more vicious and malicious way.

Honestly, he had expected to finish this and get his hands on him before the gate opened, and was surprised by his unexpected performance and the additional reinforcements, but in the end, this was his limit.

No matter how a single commander struggles and schemes, as long as he belongs to the collective of an inferior race called human, his value fades.

Paimon cheerfully swirled the wine glass, took another sip, and thought.

Victory is certain, but one important hurdle remains.

No sooner had he thought that.

BOOM-

A loud noise erupted right in front of his barracks.

“Ah, he has graced me with his presence.”

He had been thinking it was about time for him to show up.

And soon, the flap of the barracks he was in was roughly thrown aside.

Paimon, still reclined in his chair, turned his gaze and opened his mouth with a smile.

“Ah, Lord Baal. To think you would come all the way to this humble front line, I am so overwhelmed I don't know what to do with myself.”

Baal, who had entered the barracks, glared at Paimon with blazing eyes.

“Paimon.”

“Yes, please speak, my Demon King.”

Though his tone was feignedly polite, he replied while still lying in his chair.

Baal raised an eyebrow at Paimon’s posture and asked.

“Where are my subordinates that I assigned to you?”

Paimon slowly set down his wine glass and rose to his feet as he answered.

“My apologies, Lord Baal. An unfortunate accident during the operation-”

Before Paimon could finish his sentence, Baal’s strong hand seized him by the throat.

“My confidants met with an unfortunate accident at the hands of those primitive human bastards? How could such a thing be possible.”

“On the battlefield, there is no such thing as impossible, Lord Baal. You know that, don't you? As someone who experienced the war 400 years ago.”

Of course, they had not even stood on the front lines, and there was no way such individuals would suffer an unfortunate accident at the hands of the enemy. Both Baal and Paimon knew that from the start.

Nevertheless, Baal glared at Paimon and spoke as if spitting out the words.

“Why has the offensive stopped?”

“I have proposed peace negotiations.”

“Peace, negotiations? I have received no report. Explain yourself, Paimon.”

As Baal released his throat, Paimon picked up a document from the table and handed it to him.

“It is simple. I am sowing the seeds of division among those weaklings and waiting for their self-destruction. If it works out well, it will be possible to secure the ‘gate’ without any combat losses. After that, we can leisurely secure the Eastern Empire, and the Central Continent-”

However, before Paimon's words could end, Baal, who had glanced over the document, was faster in seizing his throat again.

“Wasn’t your objective to drive them out while preserving the Drones?”

Paimon, his throat still in a grip, smiled.

As expected of the Hero of the Demon Race, even a tarnished one.

His head isn't just for decoration.

“I ordered you to annihilate them, Paimon. Not to use your petty tricks to preserve your forces.”

Even as Baal shoved his face close and spoke, Paimon’s smile did not fade.

“Is that so? However, the mana required to maintain these massive numbers of Drones is not infinite. I was merely trying to carry out my given mission efficiently, yet I am met with such a misunderstanding. It is truly regrettable, my Demon King. But if you were to dispose of me now, you would be unable to stop them, would you not?”

Baal snorted and replied.

“Do you think you’re the only one with Drone Control? Is that why you act with such arrogance? Remember who stands before you. Know your place, Paimon.”

Despite this, Paimon smiled back and said.

“If you can. Then try it, my Demon King.”

Baal’s featureless eyes contorted, but he soon focused his mind.

And only then did he realize that the Drone Control, which he should have been able to recover, was now completely bound to Paimon—

The next moment, he was furious.

“Paimon, you bastard!”

Paimon grinned in front of the enraged Demon King.

Baal’s confidants had died showing this same reaction.

The sight of those vermin dying in shock, those who believed they could suppress Paimon anytime he bared his fangs, acting as if Baal's influence was their own, was truly…

“How enchanting. That is a truly splendid expression, my Demon King.”

Baal’s hands trembled as he applied pressure.

Paimon felt a pressure that could crush his neck—a neck that could not be cut by an ordinary sword—like paper, and his body trembled with the pleasure brought by the pain of suffocation.

And then, soon enough.

As Paimon had expected, Baal threw him aside.

“Cough, aha, cough, ahahahaha….”

“I could execute you this instant!”

At the enraged Baal’s shout, Paimon staggered to his feet and burst out laughing as he replied.

“Keuk, ahahahaha… Of course, of course. The fearless and brave Hero of the Demon Race, the great Demon King! You can kill a lowly demon like me anytime you wish!”

But could he, by himself, stand against the one million Drones led by Paimon?

Could he face the Allied Forces with only a handful of his Imperial Guard left, after purging countless of his own demonic followers with his own hands, claiming they had been corrupted and had deteriorated?

A hero, drunk on his own power and arrogance, convinced he could control everything.

His distorted face was more amusing than any comedy, and Paimon simply burst into laughter.

Baal ground his teeth with a grit- and turned his back on Paimon.

“Do as you wish, Paimon. …For now, that is.”

Like a true actor in this comedy, Paimon bowed deeply with an exaggerated and polite show of respect.

“I thank you for your generous decision, my Demon King.”

Baal vanished on the spot, and Paimon, unable to hold it in, erupted in maniacal laughter.

“Ha. Aha, hahaha. Ahahahaha!”

He no longer needed to wear a mask.

400 years spent shackled to something called Abyss Corporation.

The sense of liberation and ecstasy he had waited for all that long time gave him a pleasure that felt as if it would paralyze his mind.

Baal would now gather his few remaining Royal Guard to prepare for when Paimon would bare his fangs.

It didn't matter.

Even if he gathered them now, it would be nothing but a meaningless resistance against Paimon, who would have preserved his forces after the Allied Forces retreated.

Paimon trembled with ecstasy at the imagination of slaying the mighty Hero of the Demon Race, whom he had never dared to challenge, and finally taking all of the Demon Race into his hands.

“Ah, ahh, ahhh….”

This supreme pleasure.

This maddening sense of liberation.

The man who had gifted him all of this was right there before him.

Pierre.

Was he agonizing, erupting in resentment at this very moment?

He wanted to see his face in person, to lick and taste that suffering.

But a man like Pierre wouldn't miss the chance to kill Paimon and neutralize the Drones, regardless of diplomatic issues.

“A pity, such a pity….”

It was truly regrettable that he couldn't devour his despair right away, but on the other hand, if it was because Pierre had defended the gate to the end that he had been gifted this liberation.

If that was the case, then waiting a little longer for him was no problem at all.

The longer one puts something off, the greater the earnestness and expectation become.

So.

Let’s grant a short, false mirage called peace to these inferior scum who dared to set foot in Abyss Corporation.

For now, let's send Pierre back.

Let him enjoy one last rest with those he holds dear, to magnify the despair and sadness he will feel when all of it comes crumbling down.

And after I execute Baal and become the true Demon King.

Once I have the qualification, I shall go to greet Pierre.

Paimon trembled in anticipation of the pleasure that moment would bring.

*

Just two days.

In just two days, the opinion among the high command had been overturned.

“Did you not see what they did in Iberica? It’s obviously a deception!”

“We are not unaware of that. But circumstances don't allow it, so what can we do.”

“We should retreat for now, gather our strength, and wait for a later day…”

“Ha, a later day? When would that be? Are you talking about when they finally destroy the Eastern Empire and invade the Central Continent with not one million, but several million Drones?”

“Damn it! Who doesn't know that? What are we supposed to do when the soldiers’ morale has reached a point where they can no longer fight!”

“And can we even win if we fight now? One million! A hundred thousand struggled against a few thousand Drones, so you’re saying we can fight and win against a million Drones?! Are you saying we should all die together just because we don't want to lose one miserable gate!”

“One miserable gate? How much blood was shed for that one gate-”

“Damn it, weren't you Francians the ones who incited us to spill that blood! And what's the result! You personally opened a path for the demons to come to the Central Continent! We should have never come on this reckless expedition in the first place!”

“Anyway, let's negotiate, damn it! Isn't it a blessing to just return to our homelands alive rather than all die a meaningless death!”

At the end of that long, desperate struggle.

Instead of fruition, we were lost.

Impending doom was right before our eyes, but the soldiers couldn't see it.

But I couldn't give up.

I had despaired enough.

I had been frustrated enough.

No matter how dire the worst-case scenario, I had always managed to fight my way through.

I couldn't have come this far, shed so much blood, only to have it all nullified.

Just one more step.

I was only one step away from the final goal.

Christine risked her life to come here and believe in me, so I could not end this by giving up, saying there was no other way.

“No. We must fight here, no matter what happens.”

All eyes turned to my resolute voice, but soon, roars of protest erupted.

“What? The soldiers' morale is a complete mess, how can we fight in this situation? You need a chance of winning to fight!”

“Do you think we want to negotiate because we don't want to fight? If you want to die that badly, then you can die alone, Marquis-!”

“No!”

The shout, infused with mana, cut through the overflowing clamor.

“We are only looking at our own situation. We haven’t at all considered why they made such a proposal. We are missing something.”

The demons had made what seemed, ‘for now,’ a generous offer to let the entire main force of the Central Continent that had invaded here go free.

But for the demons to offer such conditions means they must also have a reason to avoid a clash with us.

“Drones are a dangerous enemy. A threatening force that does not tire and whose morale never breaks. But every living thing, everything, requires a power source to move. Energy, mana, whatever it may be. To maintain a million Drones, they would need more mana than we can imagine! Isn't that right, Tower Master?”

“Ahem, well, for a knight, that's a rational deduction. That is correct. There is no substance in this world that can move without any power source. And that thing is weaponry made from modifying living creatures, is it not? Naturally, without mana to sustain them, they are nothing more than lumps of flesh.”

I pointed towards the direction across from us, outside the conference hall, where the Drones would be, and shouted.

“Those Drones, motionless and in a dormant state even now, are the evidence! That state is proof that they want peace? They've just dressed it up with plausible words. If they truly wanted to terrify our soldiers, a show of force would have been more effective. Isn't that so?”

“Well, it is, but…”

“Is, is that so? But it's just a deduction, is it not?”

I shook my head.

“No. When I cut off Paimon's horn in Iberica, I personally experienced the Mana Storm that arose from the vast power drawn out of the Drones. There must be members of the Revolutionary Army, as well as the Iberian Brotherhood, who have also experienced that phenomenon. No matter how powerful Abyss Corporation is, they cannot draw out that kind of mana indefinitely.”

Paimon had said it clearly.

That their Industrial Revolution was a technology that extracted energy from humans to operate the Drones.

And the human bodies, once their energy was fully extracted, were converted into Drones for reuse.

At a glance, it sounds like infinite power, but it is not.

If they cannot constantly supply humans, they will eventually be left with only Drones, and the number of humans needed to fill those Drones with mana will increase exponentially.

Creating a million Drones was certainly beyond our imagination.

But conversely, it means they require that much mana to maintain them.

He must have let that information slip then, not knowing it would come to this.

But now, that has become our only hope for victory.

Even if I am not certain, I have to give them conviction.

“Their military force is enormous, but as they are currently fighting on two fronts, against us and the Eastern Empire, it is impossible for them to secure additional primates to extract mana from. Therefore, if we force a protracted war on them, we can definitely win.”

“Hmmph…”

The high command grumbled, but the mood had definitely shifted.

“That's right! We must fight! If not now, when can we ever form an Allied Forces and set foot on this island again!”

Kroxx responds in agreement.

“I agree as well. As the king of Krafte, I cannot return having shed only the blood of Krafteans.”

Heinrich I, too.

“...Certainly, if there is a chance of winning, it is a fight we must not avoid. But what do we do about the soldiers' morale problem? If the soldiers refuse to fight, there is nothing we can do.”

Gilles's words.

A reasonable opinion, but for me, it is an impossible task.

No military commander can restore the morale of an already broken army.

The atmosphere, which had just begun to settle, slowly but clearly began to fade.

Before everyone could be engulfed in resignation once more, I immediately shot up from my seat and knelt before Eris.

“Your Majesty, the Queen.”

With just that, Eris understood what she had to do.

“...The chance of winning is certain, right, Marquis?”

The Saintess I had approached out of necessity, the princess who would bridge the gap between a nobleman like me and the Republic.

The girl I had brought in as my trump card.

To my lord, who had now become a full-fledged queen, I bowed my head and replied.

“There is. Your Majesty, the Queen.”

Only she can do it.

The living proof of God, the Saintess Queen beloved by the entire Central Continent.

To her, who did not want war, to her, who did not want to become queen.

Once again, I ask her to tell them.

To believe in you and shed their blood.

To tell them that their blood will not be in vain.

“Please lead us.”

I ask with all my earnestness.

“If you do, I will stake my everything. And I will ensure that the blood of Your Majesty, and of all of them, is not shed in vain.”

Eris replied without a moment's hesitation.

“I will trust you, Marquis Lafayette. Before, now... and in the future.”