Merry Christmas!


Back in the real world, in Victoria's room, the rest of the adults were sitting in an awkward silence.

"Err, Blade."

Breaking the silence, Rodrick coughed and asked, "Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions? Though, it might come off as a little personal."

The swordsman nodded.

"I'll answer what I can."

Rodrick mentally prepared himself.

"Why do you... side with humans?" He repeated, "Why not side with the demons?"

As if the question put weight on his eyelids, the Blade closed his eyes.

After a pause, he asked, "Do you mean half-demons in general, or just me personally?"

"Both, if you don't mind."

The redhead glanced over the woman to the side along with her brother before looking back at the Lord of Agrita.

"Half-demons are closer to humans than you think. We breathe the same air, we drink the same water, we eat the same food. We laugh, sing, shout, whisper, and cry the same. And just like you, we are mortal. Blood flows through our veins like it flows through yours. The main difference between us lies within our souls."

Rodrick rubbed his chin.

"So, you are implying that half-demons choose to be with humans because they are much closer to them than they are to demons. At least in general. Am I correct?"

The Blade nodded.

The noble continued, "And you side with us because of the same reason?"

The swordsman turned towards the window.

"...More or less."


"Poke."

Ciel's brow twitched.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

She sighed. So this was how it was going to be. Well, two can play that game.

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?" asked her master bemusedly.

"A narcissistic hypocrite."

"A narcissistic hypocrite who?"

Ciel eyed him and said, "Who do you think?"

"Ehhh? I get the narcissist part," he said as he eyed her closely, taking in her image that was actually just his with the exception of her seemingly glowing runic red eyes. "But what do you mean by hypocrite?"

She could practically see the question marks floating over his head.

"Two months ago you said that I should stop using cheesy pickup lines, yet here you are, curdling all the dairy."

Rimuru laughed awkwardly, his index finger scratching his cheek.

The two were currently walking behind the younger pair, Jack and Felicia, out of their sight.

Her master had finally arrived in the 'dream world' and had almost instantly latched himself onto her arm.

This was one of the reasons why she refrained from traveling with him in the flesh. It's not that she didn't like it. It's just that the senses she perceived while in a body were a lot more 'personal,' and that had made her master's advances feel too... distracting, to say the least.

Conversely, as Rimuru wrapped his upper limbs around her left arm more tightly, he thought, "She's a lot more sassy when talking with me directly. Guh, she's just so cute!"

If one were to see from the eyes of a passerby, they would've looked like a pair of extroverted and introverted twins, with the former nagging the latter, making her bashful.

After having his fun, Rimuru stopped beating around the bush.

"So, any reason why you're here before I even entered?"

Ciel quickly filled Rimuru in on her reasons and what happened before he came.

The golden eyed bluenette sighed.

"I really should reprimand you for your behavior, but I know my words will only fall to deaf ears. It's just that... I don't want you wasting your time worrying about me too much."

She snorted, cutely, if he might add. "You assume that I think worrying about you is just a waste of my time."

Rimuru could only laugh defeatedly.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry for not considering your feelings on the matter."

Ciel was just too critical of the possibility of a threat. Though, to be fair, that by itself wasn't inherently a bad thing. It didn't help that he was becoming increasingly careless by the day, and that danger came toward him perpetually like he was a magnet. Maybe he needed to take more care in how he handled things from now on.

"Master, may I suggest something?"

"Oh? What is it?" Rimuru looked up to face her.

"I would like to test your... son, along with Izawa Shizue's reincarnation."

"How are you going to do so?"

She explained her plan to him.

"Oho. That will be very interesting. All right, you may do so, but only after they finish their little quest." He looked at the two kids who were walking side by side.

"We're here," said the girl.

Felicia had led them back toward the wide courtyard, albeit on a more secluded part. There, a familiar figure stood. His wild red hair tied in a high ponytail swung freely in the wind. In front of him was a triangular pyramid made of earth.


The noble held his breath, before asking another question.

"You said your souls are different from ours. What significance does a soul make?"

The Blade caressed his dark wing, its leathery texture felt rough on his fingertips.

"They say that the body is shaped by the soul. Mortals like us look like our relatives because the soul that chose to stay within us looked similar to theirs.

"Demons, on the other hand, are souls that could quite literally shape their own bodies. At least, that was what was said they could do before the Day of Cursing.

"A human soul would enter a human body, while a demon's soul could manifest their own."

Once again unfurling his wing, he looked at Rodrick in the eye and asked.

"Tell me, what kind of soul do you think enters a half-demon's body?"

The nobleman really couldn't be blamed for being at a loss against such a question.

"The answer is that there are none," answered the swordsman morosely.

"When labor comes knocking, if no soul has entered a soon-to-be-born's body, it will automatically try to snatch a soul into itself. It will then force the soul itself to change using a part of one parent's soul as a catalyst. This is why there are cases where a person always feels out of sync with their body. They feel that they never belong anywhere. Of course, if the body fails to find a soul at all, then the baby will come out a stillborn.

"Over time, one such person whose soul was forcibly glued into would either slowly fall in tune with the change, allowing their souls to be permanently altered, or they would subconsciously seek to end themselves to prevent their souls from changing.

"A half-demon is always the case of one such person, making us even rarer due to the increased chance of stillbirth and our partial tendency to kill ourselves. We feel that we do not belong anywhere. We are alienated from both our parents' lineages not just by discrimination, but by the will of our own souls.

"When a baby is born, if one of its parents is a demon, then part of the demon's soul is forcibly implanted to the baby's mortal soul. With that piece, we inherit some of our demonic parent's powers, depending on the size of the demon's soul that was put into us and the strength of the demon itself."

The Blade then pointed at the noble's daughter.

"Your daughter is unable to properly control her powers because the piece that was left to her was rather small and insignificant. It most likely is because your deceased wife was already from a line of half-demons herself, making her demonic soul quite small."

Rodrick took as deep a breath as how deep the knowledge sunk in.

He looked at his daughter in distraught. Even if he weren't a fighter, he'd thought he would be able to protect her from harm. But, time and again he was proven just how wrong he was. And now, with so many incomprehensible things coming up one after another, he felt like even if he were the greatest fighter in the continent, he still wouldn't be able to protect her.

"If I may add something, my lords."

The nobleman turned toward the woman with ebony hair. She continued, "I believe that a parent's hand in guiding their half-demonic children may be a significant help."

She shook her head. "No, let me rephrase that. It is essential for parents to stand by their children, regardless of what they are, whether they resist their nature or embrace it, especially for half-demon children."

"...You're right." The man took a deep breath. "No matter what she is and what she'll become—what choices she will pick, I'll try my best to support her."

Victoria smiled at his words.

Rodrick then blinked.

"Say, with you being a half-demon yourself, how do you help your children with their growth? I would like some pointers, if you don't mind."

"Oh." The woman chuckled nervously. "Well, I can't say I have experience in raising half-demon kids—though, not counting my brother, of course."

"Tch. What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, shush, you big baby." The woman clicked her tongue.

"Huh?" Both the Blade and the nobleman looked at her confusedly.

"Well, I already purged the demonic part of my soul before I gave birth."

Rodrick stood in surprise. "Wait. You can do that!?"

He looked towards the Blade. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"I advise you not to attempt it, much less force your daughter into this," added the woman.

"...Why not?"

The Blade answered, "Because it's very risky, and the price your daughter will have to pay is significant. On a failure, the best case would be her soul getting utterly destroyed. Worst is..."

No one besides Voltaire noticed his hand curling into a tight grip. "...she becomes an abomination."

"A-Abomination? I'm not sure I understand."

He once again eyed the nobleman.

"Do you remember hearing about a monster that appeared in the north fifteen years ago?"

Rodrick tried his best to remember.

"...I think I remember. If I recall correctly, there were rumors about a monster that spread like wildfire in the Northwest. I'd heard about it from my brother a while after it was captured. People from the Wintervale kingdom—from the Last Mountain—were getting mauled and devoured left and right on the roads leading to Utrgarde and the Anarchic Lands. The culprit turned out to be something called, I think, the Red Saint...?"

"The Red Saint-eater."

The Red Saint-eater was a horrific humanoid monster with claws as sharp as knives, covered from head to toe in bloody red colored fur. It had gained its name when it attacked an entourage from the Church, which was guarding an important figure from their faction, the Saintess Venus who was travelling with her daughters. It had devoured the whole entourage and was seen gnawing on the Saintess' corpse when it was discovered.

Rodrick sighed. "So that thing was actually once a half-demon?"

The Blade nodded.

The nobleman shook his head. That threw the idea into the bin.

The monster had long since been captured. The Barbarian King had been chasing it from the Savannahs of the Anarchic Lands to the mountain and came upon the scene when he finally caught up to it. While he hadn't been quick enough to save the Saintess, he'd been able to save her daughters.

"...Actually, it had another name." Voltaire finally spoke.

"After the Covenant Lord captured and enslaved it, he jokingly called it Saint Claws, the Saint of the Northernmost Mountain."

The name got popular, and the Lord decided it was fitting and went with it.

His sister looked at him distastefully.

"I... see." Rodrick coughed.

"You seem awfully familiar with this monster. Did you know it before it became that?" Asked the black coated man out of nowhere.

The Blade narrowed his eyes. "That is none of your concern."

"Oh?" Volgoa hummed with clear interest. "What was it to you?"

The Blade stole a quick glance at his slumbering apprentice and said, "A reminder."


A/N: I edited a few parts of the list in my previous chapter. A few things I changed are of Bartholomew Viengrey and Caleb. I'll add the new locations and characters mentioned in this chapter later.