78

"The River of Death, Pandemonium, refers to…"

"It's the old name of the volcanic lake at the summit of Mount Hata."

Roland answered one minister's question calmly.

Mount Hata was a dormant volcano at the border between Sibareth and Naizman.

Though its last eruption had occurred so long ago it was nearly forgotten,

its high, rugged terrain and reputation as a habitat for dangerous monsters

meant that almost no one ever approached it.

"And who exactly is this Sacred Human supposed to be?"

asked Foreign Minister Alaba.

At that, the chamber fell silent.

The one to be offered to the volcanic lake as the Sacred Human—it was clearly a human sacrifice.

There had been a brief period in the early history of Sibareth when human sacrifices were performed, but that phase had lasted less than a hundred years and had been small in scale.

Since then, the practice had been completely abolished.

"It's difficult to interpret the codex literally. I can't even guess who the Sacred Human might refer to."

One minister spoke slowly.

Another responded cautiously.

"Could it be that the term Sacred Human refers not to someone inherently holy,

but to someone who becomes sacred through the offering?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean perhaps the offering itself makes the person sacred. If that's the case, then maybe it doesn't matter who it is."

"Hmm… but does that mean even a criminal or a condemned prisoner would qualify? That wouldn't align with the tone of the text. There has to be a sense of sacrifice—of nobility—for the phrase 'noble death of the Sacred Human' to make sense."

Roland spoke gravely.

"Which means, in the end, the sacrifice must be someone innocent."

At Mukbar's comment, sighs echoed throughout the chamber.

"That's how I interpret it. What do the rest of you think…?"

After a moment of silence, someone spoke hesitantly.

"Hearing the word 'sacred'… it made me think of the temple children."

"…Hmm…"

In Sibareth's palace temple, boys and girls from orphanages were taken in.

These children, mostly in their early teens, lived and worked in the temple, doing menial chores.

As they grew older, they would eventually become maids or servants within the palace.

"In that case, twelve would be appropriate—one to represent each bloodline of Sibareth."

Once the idea was out, the conversation accelerated.

"Twelve seems excessive, don't you think?"

"If we're going to do it, we should do it properly."

"…I disagree.

I've had someone else in mind from the beginning,"

the Minister of Magic interjected.

"Speak your mind."

"Have you all forgotten the saying *'he who ties the knot must untie it'?

Who is responsible for this chaos in Sibareth? Wasn't it also written in the codex?

'A darkness from another world shall stir calamity in Sibareth.'"

"…Surely you don't mean—"

"That wretched, impudent girl from another world—who dared to kill our Grand Vizier and plunge our kingdom into disorder. If she were offered to Pandemonium, everything would come to a clean and perfect end!"

"I support this."

"As do I."

Voices of agreement quickly followed the Magic Minister's proposal. However, a few ministers wore uneasy expressions.

"But… His Grace the Grand Duke seems to be very fond of that girl. If we do this without his knowledge…"

At Mukbar's concern, the Magic Minister raised his chin proudly.

"The war worsens by the day. At this point, even the Grand Duke's survival is uncertain."

"How dare you! What kind of disloyal statement is that?!"

shouted Foreign Minister Alaba.

The Magic Minister gave him a frosty smile.

"I'm simply being realistic. With our nation's fate hanging by a thread, what use are lofty ideals like loyalty and honor?"

"Enough. Let us put the matter to a vote."

Roland's voice cut through the tension.

A secret ballot was held—to decide whether Mia or the temple children would be the more appropriate sacrifice.

With the votes from the eleven bloodline representatives and Roland himself,

the results were perfectly tied.

As murmurs began to rise again, Roland spoke quietly.

"In that case, we proceed with both."

"…!"

"I support it. It's better to ensure success than to risk everything on one choice."

"I second that."

"Agreed!"

The lights in the council chamber remained lit late into the night.

Mia awoke with a strange feeling.

"AAAAAHHH!! What the—what is this?!"

"Hold still. I'm helping you."

"This?! You call this helping?!"

Her entire body was wrapped tightly in something like spider silk, leaving only her face exposed.

And now the witch was approaching with another ball of thread, apparently ready to cover that too.

"What the hell is going on?! What did I do to deserve this?!"

It hadn't been long since she escaped the vines, and now she was back to being cocooned again—utterly outraged. Just how many times had she been tied up since coming to Sibareth?

Clearly, trusting this witch and falling asleep had been a mistake.

The witch glanced around, then put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh."

Mia stared at her, bewildered. The witch leaned in and spoke softly.

"That orb you showed me—if you follow it exactly, you won't make it back before the year's end. Do you even know how far that is?"

"…How long does it take, then?"

"I just told you—at least half a year! And I'm speaking from experience."

"So this is...?"

"Consider yourself lucky.Today's the night of the Demons' Ball."

"...The Demons' Ball?"

The witch nodded and glanced out the window.

Mia followed her gaze and saw that night had already fallen. She'd fallen asleep at lunchtime, and now the sun was gone—That witch must've slipped something into her tea.

Mia eyed her warily again, but the witch stepped carefully to the window, studying the sky with a serious expression.

Then she nodded.

"Good. The demons are gathering."

"...?"

Lunarena turned back to Mia and spoke.

"Listen carefully. You're about to become a shiny golden egg, displayed at the grand feast of demons.

They'll think you're some rare treasure and carry you straight to their master—

the demon god Beelzebub."

"...What?!"

"It's an incredibly fast shortcut. If all goes well, you'll arrive at Beelzebub's domain before sunrise. Much faster than dragging yourself along the orb's path for six months."

Mia gasped. Could this witch possibly be telling the truth?

"Believe me or not, I don't care. If you refuse, I'll untie you and give you the long route instructions. It's your choice."

After a brief pause, Mia replied,

"...I'll go to that ball or whatever. But… you said you hate doing things for free.

How am I supposed to repay you for all this help?"

The black witch Lunarena gave a faint smile.

"We'll settle that once you make it back alive. Now go on."

Before Mia could respond, her face was covered in silky white threads.

And yet—somehow, she could still breathe. Then she felt something hard form around her entire body.

She was being lifted. A cold breeze entered her nose. The witch must have been carrying her cocooned body.

Lunarena placed the egg-shaped Mia on the back of her pet crocodile, and together they ventured deep into the forest.

Once they reached their destination, she quickly laid Mia down and turned to flee.

As they escaped, the crocodile panted and asked,

"Lady Lunarena, why are you going this far? You never got paid for that awful red-haired last time either!"

The witch sighed.

"That's the fortune-teller's fate. My master used to say— if we see death in someone's fate, we must offer every kindness we can. If we don't, the curse falls on us."

"Ugh… you shouldn't have read her future at all."

"Don't I know it. Shot myself in the foot, didn't I?"

"And what about that wicked red-haired brat? What'll you do with him?"

"I can't see him in the orb anymore. All I sense now is a wicked energy...

I've got a bad feeling."

"Eek! Wicked energy?!"

"Shh! The demons are here!"

Lunarena pulled the crocodile behind cover. Together, they watched the demons flying in from the sky.

Meanwhile, Mia shifted uneasily inside her cocoon. She could hear a commotion nearby.

Just as the witch said—the ball was beginning.

She heard glasses clinking. Voices laughing, chatting. But she couldn't understand a single word.

Demonic language, probably. Mia, trembling, strained to listen.

"^%$($^&$^$)~"

"&%$#(!!5~1@"

...No use.

She couldn't understand any of it. Demons really did have their own language.

Thump.

She felt something tap her shell.

Thump thump. Whack.

It was real. Someone was touching her!

"A[ㅔ뵤샤ㅔㅛㅂ8ㅔ숏!"

"^%ㄲ%ㅖ:ㅗㅑㅈ0ㅅ6ㅅ6!"

Rough, guttural voices shouted nearby. They were saying something, but it was all incomprehensible.

Mia trembled with fear. She couldn't understand a thing.

Could she really trust that witch's plan?

Was she actually going to be delivered safely to the demon god?

WHACK!!

Suddenly—

a powerful kick slammed into her shell.

"Oww!!"

She yelped without meaning to. And in that instant, the demons fell silent.

Mia froze, paralyzed by terror.

Then—

"Open it."

A deep, clear voice rang out. And Mia understood every word.