Chapter 807

By now, Evenson had a fairly clear picture of what had happened.

For centuries, Gildreys had been trying to resurrect Saint Joan of Arc. He had turned to forbidden knowledge to accomplish it, and after abandoning the Book of the Eibon, he had undoubtedly experimented with all sorts of other dark magic. But he had started from an unusually high level of magical knowledge. If the Book of the Eibon couldn’t fulfill his wish, then ordinary necromancy and similar spells certainly weren’t going to do the job.

The reason was simple.

Joan’s soul had been forcibly imprisoned by a naaru, which intended to use her—and other exceptional souls—to create an army of holy warriors.

That also explained why Gildreys had eventually sought out Mephisto.

"Mephisto is a demon lord who specializes in soul contracts," Evenson said. "And in most traditions, demons have always been portrayed as the enemies of God. So you assumed he could recover Joan’s soul and help you resurrect her. Am I right?"

"Entirely."

Gildreys nodded without hesitation.

"It was the best method I could think of. It was also my last one. So I have no intention of giving up."

He paused.

"Besides, Mephisto and I have already signed a contract. Once a demonic contract is established, neither party can simply walk away. So when you tell me Mephisto sent you to retrieve the cube, I don’t believe it for a second."

His enormous eyes narrowed.

"However, I know you’re powerful. I have no desire to fight you unless absolutely necessary. So why don’t we simply pretend none of this happened and go our separate ways?"

That actually made Evenson hesitate.

Gildreys wasn’t some ordinary dark wizard. He had survived for centuries, and during all that time he had accumulated an unknown amount of magic in his quest to resurrect Joan. More importantly, Farina’s attitude toward him was telling.

The demon princess had maintained her dignity in front of Gildreys, but anyone paying attention could tell she was wary of him.

Calling him the world’s most powerful dark mage wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

That didn’t mean Evenson was afraid.

If he went all out, he could at least fight Hela without immediately getting himself killed. There was no reason to assume Gildreys was stronger than the Goddess of Death. And this wasn’t that strange prison dimension where Evenson had been isolated from everyone else. If things got ugly, he could call in reinforcements.

The Sorcerer Supreme or either of the Eredar twins would be more than enough to turn the fight in his favor.

So the question wasn’t whether he could win.

It was whether fighting was worth it.

Mephisto had asked him to retrieve the cube, but there was no contract between them this time, nor had Mephisto offered him any tangible reward.

Evenson hated fighting for free.

On the other hand, simply walking away with so many unanswered questions left a bad taste in his mouth.

Something about this situation was deeply suspicious.

If Gildreys was right and Mephisto had genuinely changed his mind about the cube, then that should have been impossible.

Demonic contracts bound both parties.

Of course, demons were experts at exploiting loopholes. They could bury unfavorable conditions in mountains of legal language, make their opponent’s obligations as difficult as possible, or manipulate the wording so that a failure to fulfill the contract resulted in an absurdly expensive penalty.

But outright breaking a contract?

No.

That would mean Mephisto had willingly made himself the party in breach.

He would be the one paying the price.

Even a minor demon would consider that humiliating. For a demon lord like Mephisto, it would be unthinkable.

Then Evenson remembered something.

He hadn’t spoken to Mephisto directly this time.

The message had come through an intermediary.

Could someone have used Mephisto’s name to manipulate him—and dragged Mephisto into the scheme at the same time?

Or perhaps Mephisto had somehow discovered a way to circumvent the punishment mechanism attached to his own contracts.

Either possibility was fascinating.

And then there was the matter of the souls.

If that mysterious system had been collecting exceptional souls since the beginning of the Common Era, how many had accumulated by now?

Evenson suddenly wanted a very thorough inventory.

"Marshal," Evenson said, putting on an expression of considerable reluctance. "You have to understand that this assignment isn’t exactly something I can casually refuse. Don’t misunderstand me—I have no desire to fight you. I was simply wondering if you could tell me the exact terms of your contract with Mephisto."

He spread his hands.

"That way, I can go back and report them to him. It should at least let me finish my assignment."

Gildreys considered the request.

"That seems reasonable."

He rubbed his chin.

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

Evenson blinked.

"...That’s it?"

"Yes."

Gildreys nodded firmly.

"For a demonic contract, it’s practically unprecedented in its simplicity."

That was putting it mildly.

Demonic contracts were usually labyrinthine things designed to conceal loopholes and traps. Evenson still remembered the contract Mephisto had used when establishing his residence on Earth. The thing had been more than thirty feet long and had taken an entire night to review.

This one was a single sentence.

No additional clauses.

No conditions.

No definitions.

That was deeply abnormal.

Evenson silently reread the wording in his head several times.

His expression slowly became stranger and stranger.

"Marshal, are you absolutely certain that’s the exact wording? Nothing was omitted?"

"Nothing."

Gildreys shook his head.

"That’s the complete contract."

Evenson’s expression became even more peculiar.

The contract wasn’t free of loopholes.

It was strange precisely because of the loophole it contained.

Farina, meanwhile, twitched visibly before quietly turning her head away.

"Marshal," Evenson said, beginning to pace around the room, "I need to point something out. Your contract may be short, but it contains a rather enormous loophole."

"Oh?"

Gildreys immediately became wary.

"Explain."

"The first clause says that Gildreys must assist Mephisto in opening a gateway to Hell on Earth."

Evenson raised a finger.

"It never specifies how you’re supposed to do it."

He continued before Gildreys could respond.

"You could use the cube you’re holding. You could use something else entirely. So Mephisto asking me to retrieve the cube doesn’t constitute a breach of contract."

Gildreys slowly nodded.

"So he was simply making things more difficult for me."

"Exactly."

"The cube I commissioned is the most convenient method of opening the gateway. In fact, it’s the only method I’m currently aware of. I’m still not going to let you take it."

"That isn’t the important part."

Evenson stopped pacing.

"The contract says you must assist Mephisto in opening the gateway. It never says you have to succeed."

Gildreys froze.

"And it doesn’t specify how much assistance you’re required to provide."

Silence.

Gildreys’s enormous eyes widened.

His pupils began spinning again.

Evenson scratched his head.

"Think about it. The moment you signed the contract, you could have looked toward the heavens, shouted, ’I, Gildreys, have made every possible effort to help Mephisto open the gateway!’"

He spread his hands.

"Contract fulfilled."

"You mean..."

"You could then do absolutely nothing. Or spend five minutes thinking about possible methods. Either way, you’d technically have fulfilled your obligation."

Gildreys stared at him.

For the first time, Evenson could see the realization hit him.

If the first clause was that loose, then perhaps the second clause contained some trick as well.

But Evenson shook his head.

"The second clause doesn’t have much room for exploitation."

He pointed it out carefully.

"Mephisto must recover Saint Joan’s soul. There’s no ambiguity there. If the contract had said he would ’search for’ her soul, then yes, he could argue that he’d fulfilled his obligation simply by looking. But it says ’recover.’"

Evenson paused.

"The only weakness I can see is that the contract doesn’t establish a deadline."

"So..."

Gildreys stared at him.

"In my opinion, that’s the only loophole in the entire contract. And it’s completely in your favor."

"How..."

Gildreys looked genuinely stunned.

The loophole was obvious. Given enough time to calmly examine the wording, even he should have noticed it.

But that was precisely the problem.

He had cared too much.

No—he had cared too desperately about Joan’s soul.

Resurrecting her had become the greatest obsession of his life. Everything connected to that goal had become so important that he had unconsciously refused to entertain the possibility of exploiting it.

He had simply assumed that the contract had to be fair.

"How could he do this?" Gildreys muttered.

He rested a hand beneath his chin, thinking hard.

"Demons are notorious for exploiting contracts. If Mephisto wanted to, he could easily reverse the advantage and leave a loophole that benefited me."

His expression darkened.

"But why?"

"He gains almost nothing from the deal."

"Exactly."

Evenson couldn’t answer that either.

"Unless the contract itself is what he wants."

Gildreys looked at him.

"You mean?"

"Maybe opening the gateway is useful to him, but not essential. Maybe he’ll be happy if you succeed and equally happy if you don’t."

Evenson’s eyes narrowed.

"And maybe what he really wants is the contract itself."

Gildreys fell silent.

Then his gaze slowly shifted toward Farina.

The demon princess had been standing quietly to the side.

Given her relationship with Mephisto, she might know what her father was really thinking.

And judging by how carefully she’d been avoiding this conversation, she probably did.

"Princess," Gildreys said.

Farina looked over.

"Would you care to explain?"

"Um..."

Her eyes darted from side to side.

"Do I really have to?"

"Of course not."

Gildreys smiled.

"We’ve known each other for quite some time. You are perfectly entitled to remain silent."

His hands rubbed together.

"Although I imagine you know very well how many methods I possess for persuading a beautiful woman to speak her mind."

Farina immediately shook her head.

"It isn’t what you think. My relationship with my father isn’t exactly good."

She hesitated.

"Anyway, demons like making contracts with humans for several reasons. Obviously, there’s the profit. There’s also the entertainment."

She sighed.

"But demons can gain power from the contracts themselves."

Gildreys’s eyes narrowed.

"That doesn’t sound like the whole answer."

He glanced toward her.

"You still haven’t explained why your father would treat me so generously. Why leave such an obvious advantage in my favor?"

Farina’s expression froze.

"Ah..."

She scratched her cheek.

"Well..."

She finally sighed.

"The day that village girl—"

She stopped herself.

"Sorry. Saint Joan of Arc’s martyrdom."

"My father returned to Hell absolutely furious."

Farina’s expression became increasingly awkward.

"He was so angry that he reserved rooms in Hell for everyone involved in her downfall. Bishops. Kings. Even the Pope."

She swallowed.

"And when they eventually arrived, he personally welded their doors shut."

Gildreys’s expression was blank.

"For quite some time afterward, he couldn’t stop talking about Joan."

Farina shuddered.

"I had never seen that expression on his face before. So at the time, Mephisto and I came to the same conclusion."

She gave them an embarrassed smile.

"We thought we might eventually have a new... stepmother named Joan."

Silence.

There really wasn’t much else to misunderstand.

Mephisto was in love with Joan of Arc.

He wanted her soul.

He wanted to resurrect her.

And this entire contract with Gildreys was probably nothing more than a convenient excuse to conceal his own motives.

Gildreys’s hands rose slowly to his head.

"AAAAAAAH!"

He began shaking again.

Evenson immediately felt a surge of sympathy.

He walked over and patted Gildreys firmly on the shoulder.

"Marshal, stay strong."

His voice was solemn.

"You have my full support. If Mephisto wants to compete for Joan, then so do we."

Gildreys trembled harder.

Evenson had no idea whether that helped.

Probably not.