Chapter 806

By this point, Evenson had a fairly good grasp of what had happened.

For centuries, Gildreys had been trying to resurrect Saint Joan of Arc. In pursuit of that goal, he had delved into forbidden knowledge and, after eventually abandoning the Book of the Eibon, had undoubtedly experimented with other dark and unconventional forms of magic.

But Gildreys had started from an absurdly high level of magical knowledge. If the Book of the Eibon itself couldn’t fulfill his wish, then ordinary necromancy and similar arts obviously weren’t going to succeed either.

And the reason was surprisingly simple.

Joan’s soul had been forcibly detained by a naaru, which intended to use it as part of a system modeled after the warriors of Valhalla—a way of collecting powerful souls and eventually creating an army of Light.

That also explained why Gildreys had turned to Mephisto.

"Mephisto is a lord of Hell who specializes in dealing with souls. And in most traditions, demons have always stood opposed to God. So you assumed he could help you retrieve Saint Joan’s soul and resurrect her. Am I right?"

"Completely."

Gildreys nodded without hesitation.

"It’s the best method I could think of. It’s also the last one I have. So no matter what happens, I won’t give up."

He paused.

"Besides, Mephisto and I have already signed a contract. Once a demonic contract is established, neither party can simply change their mind. That’s why I don’t believe for a second that Mephisto sent you to retrieve that cube."

"But..."

Gildreys’s enormous eyes narrowed.

"I know you’re powerful. Unless absolutely necessary, I’d rather not fight you. So why don’t we simply pretend this never happened and go our separate ways?"

Evenson actually hesitated.

Gildreys wasn’t some ordinary dark wizard. He had survived for centuries, and over all that time, he’d accumulated an unknown number of magical secrets in pursuit of Joan’s resurrection.

More importantly, Princess Falinia’s attitude toward him was worth noting.

She maintained the dignity expected of a princess whenever she spoke to him, but anyone paying attention to her words and mannerisms could tell that she was deeply wary of Gildreys.

There was no exaggeration in calling him one of the most powerful dark mages in the world.

That alone wasn’t enough to frighten Evenson. If he got serious, he could fight Hela on relatively even terms. Gildreys shouldn’t be stronger than the Goddess of Death.

And unlike the strange prison dimension where he’d previously been trapped, Evenson could call for reinforcements here.

If either the Ancient One or one of the Eredar twins came to his aid, victory against Gildreys would be practically assured.

So the real question wasn’t whether he could win.

It was whether there was any reason to fight in the first place.

Evenson had come here because he’d accepted Mephisto’s request, but there was no contract between them this time, nor had Mephisto promised him any tangible reward.

Evenson hated pointless fights.

But simply walking away with Gildreys’s offer left him deeply dissatisfied.

Something about this situation was wrong.

If Gildreys was telling the truth and Mephisto had suddenly changed his mind and ordered Evenson to retrieve the cube, then Mephisto would have to be violating their contract.

That should have been impossible.

Demonic contracts were restrictive to both sides. Hell’s demons certainly enjoyed exploiting loopholes, twisting wording to maximize their own benefits, increasing the difficulty of fulfilling an agreement, or arranging circumstances that forced the other party to pay an enormous penalty.

But openly and deliberately breaking a contract?

No.

That would mean Mephisto was willingly taking the blame for breaching his own agreement. He would be the one obligated to pay the penalty.

Even a common demon would regard such a thing as humiliating.

For a Lord of Hell like Mephisto, it would be unthinkable.

Then another possibility occurred to Evenson.

He and Mephisto had never actually spoken directly about this matter. Everything had been communicated through intermediaries.

Could someone be using Mephisto’s name to manipulate him?

Or had Mephisto, being a Lord of Hell, somehow discovered a way to violate a contract without triggering its punishment mechanism?

Either possibility was fascinating.

And there was something else involved here that made it impossible for Evenson to simply walk away.

If this whole affair seemed to offer no obvious benefit, then why not find a way to get involved deeply enough to create one?

After all, if that automated system had been collecting high-quality souls since the beginning of the Common Era, how many had it accumulated by now?

Evenson very much wanted to find out.

"Marshal..."

Evenson suddenly put on an expression of considerable reluctance.

"You have to understand that the commission I accepted isn’t something I can simply refuse. Don’t misunderstand me. I have no desire to fight you either."

He spread his hands.

"I was just wondering if you’d be willing to tell me the terms of your contract with Mephisto. That way, I can report them when I return and at least say I did my part."

Gildreys stroked his chin for a long moment.

That seemed reasonable.

If he explained everything and made it clear that he neither could nor would abandon his objective, perhaps Evenson would understand that continuing this confrontation was pointless.

"Very well."

He cleared his throat.

"Gildreys and Mephisto agreed that Gildreys would assist Mephisto in opening a portal to Hell on Earth. In return, Mephisto would retrieve the soul of Saint Joan of Arc."

Evenson stared at him.

"...That’s it?"

Gildreys nodded.

"That’s it."

For a demonic contract, it was practically unprecedented in its simplicity.

Normally, demonic contracts were horrendously complicated precisely because every loophole and hidden condition had to be accounted for.

Evenson remembered the contract Mephisto had once used when establishing a permanent presence on Earth. The document had been more than ten meters long, and reviewing it had taken an entire night.

This one consisted of a single sentence.

There wasn’t even an additional clause.

That was deeply abnormal.

Evenson mentally reread the wording several times.

His expression gradually became stranger.

"Marshal, you’re certain that’s the exact wording of the contract? Nothing was omitted?"

"Nothing."

Gildreys shook his head.

"That is the contract in its entirety."

Evenson’s expression grew even more peculiar.

It wasn’t that the contract had no loopholes.

It was that the loophole was so obvious that its existence was almost unbelievable.

Falinia’s expression twitched when she saw Evenson’s face. Without saying a word, she quietly turned her head away.

"Marshal."

Evenson began pacing around the room.

"I have to point something out. This contract may be short, but it contains an enormous loophole."

"Oh?"

Gildreys immediately became alert.

"Go on."

"The first clause states that you must assist Mephisto in opening a portal to Hell on Earth."

Evenson raised one finger.

"But it never specifies how you’re supposed to do it. You could use the cube you’re holding. You could use something else entirely."

He stopped pacing.

"So Mephisto sending me to retrieve the cube isn’t a breach of contract."

Gildreys nodded slowly.

"I see. He was simply making my task more difficult. But the cube I had constructed is the most convenient method of opening the portal. As far as I know, it’s the only method available to me. I’m not going to let you take it."

"That’s not the important part."

Evenson shook his head.

"Actually, that isn’t a problem at all."

He looked directly at Gildreys.

"Your contract only says that you’re supposed to assist Mephisto in opening the portal. It doesn’t say you actually have to succeed."

Gildreys froze.

"It also doesn’t specify how much assistance you’re required to provide."

His enormous eyes widened.

"What... does that mean?"

Evenson scratched the back of his head.

He almost couldn’t believe this himself.

"It means that immediately after signing the contract, you could have looked up at the sky and shouted, ’I, Gildreys, have made every effort to help Mephisto open the gates of Hell!’"

He shrugged.

"Then you could do absolutely nothing. Or spend five seconds thinking about possible methods. As far as the contract is concerned, you’ve fulfilled your obligation."

Gildreys’s expression changed instantly.

He had clearly reached the same conclusion.

If the first clause contained such a ridiculous loophole, then perhaps Mephisto’s obligation to retrieve Joan’s soul contained one as well.

"There is no room for that kind of maneuver in the second clause," Evenson said, cutting off the thought.

He shook his head.

"Mephisto must retrieve Saint Joan’s soul. There isn’t any ambiguity there. If the contract merely said ’search for’ her soul, then he could argue that he had searched and failed. But it says ’retrieve.’"

He paused.

"The only real ambiguity is that the contract doesn’t establish a deadline."

Evenson folded his arms.

"So, as far as I can tell, there’s only one major loophole in the entire contract—and it’s completely in your favor. Mephisto is the one who’s bound tightly."

"How...?"

Gildreys looked genuinely stunned.

The loophole was obvious enough that someone as intelligent as he was should have noticed it after reading the contract carefully.

But that was precisely the problem.

He had taken the contract too seriously.

No.

He had taken Joan’s soul too seriously.

Resurrecting her had become the greatest desire of his existence. Everything connected to it had become sacred in his mind, leaving no room for him to consider exploiting technicalities or looking for an easier way out.

He had unconsciously overlooked the loophole because he had never considered taking advantage of it.

"Demons are famous for exploiting contracts," Gildreys said, resting his chin on one hand as he thought aloud. "If Mephisto wanted to, reversing the advantage and deliberately leaving me a loophole would be easy."

His brow furrowed.

"But why?"

He looked genuinely troubled.

"Doing so gives him practically nothing. According to the terms, he’d be losing terribly."

"Who knows?"

Even Evenson couldn’t determine Mephisto’s intentions.

"Unless the contract itself is what Mephisto considers the real prize."

Gildreys looked up.

"You mean..."

"You opening the portal is preferable, obviously. But if you fail, perhaps he doesn’t care. Perhaps what he really needs is the contract itself."

"What could possibly be so important about—"

Gildreys suddenly narrowed his eyes.

His gaze shifted toward Falinia, who had quietly moved to the side of the room.

She was the person closest to Mephisto.

If anyone knew what the old demon lord was thinking, it would be her.

And judging by the way she was avoiding everyone’s eyes, she knew something.

"Princess."

Falinia turned.

Her eyes darted left and right.

"Do I really have to say?"

"My esteemed princess, of course you have every right to remain silent."

Gildreys rubbed his hands together with an unnervingly pleasant smile.

"After all, we’ve known each other for quite some time."

His smile widened.

"I’m sure you know very well how many methods I possess for persuading beautiful women to speak their minds."

Falinia immediately shook her head.

"It isn’t anything like that. My relationship with my father isn’t exactly good."

She hesitated.

"How do I put this..."

She sighed.

"Demons like making contracts with humans because they can obtain enormous rewards and enjoy themselves. But there’s another reason."

She glanced toward Evenson.

"Demons can draw power from the contracts themselves."

Gildreys’s expression sharpened.

"My father can move between Hell and the mortal world so freely without being detected largely because so many people have entered into contracts with him."

"That doesn’t seem like the complete answer."

Gildreys studied her.

"You still haven’t explained why your father treated me so generously. Why leave a loophole that benefits me so heavily?"

Falinia’s expression froze.

"Well..."

She grimaced.

"The day that country girl—"

She quickly corrected herself.

"Sorry. Saint Joan of Arc’s martyrdom. That day, my father returned to Hell absolutely furious."

Her voice became increasingly awkward.

"He arranged rooms in Hell for everyone who had conspired against Joan. Bishops, kings, even the Pope."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"And after sending them there, he personally welded their doors shut."

Falinia paused.

"For quite some time afterward, he couldn’t stop talking about Joan. The expression on his face was one I’d never seen before."

She swallowed.

"So at the time, Heartless and I started wondering if perhaps we’d eventually have a new..."

She made a helpless gesture.

"...stepmother named Joan."

Silence.

The meaning couldn’t have been clearer.

Mephisto wasn’t merely helping Gildreys because of some mutually beneficial bargain.

He had his own feelings about Joan.

He wanted her soul back.

He wanted to resurrect her.

The contract with Gildreys was simply a convenient excuse—a smokescreen for his own obsession.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!"

Gildreys grabbed his head with both hands and began shaking violently.

His entire body trembled.

Evenson was overcome by sympathy.

He walked over, placed a hand on Gildreys’s shoulder, and spoke with heartfelt sincerity.

"That old bastard Mephisto has no decency. I’m with you, Marshal. All the way."