Endless Debt-Chapter 790 - 251: Punishment
Belphegor picked up the drink, cleared his throat, and resumed his eerie speech.
"Bologue, I like you. You are different from many others; they see the Devil and react as if bearing a deep-seated hatred, unable to hear a word I say, eager to leave or even give me a stab."
Belphegor smiled at Bologue, now wearing Ewen’s face, "You’re different; you listen to me seriously, contemplating the relationship between us."
"Actually, I’ve always felt humans greatly misunderstood the Devil..."
"You are merely slaves to power," Bologue said indifferently, "bound wish machines, each and every one of you."
"That’s right, you can understand it that way. Regardless of the disasters we cause, at the root, it all starts with human desire."
Belphegor pursed his lips, "See, the guilty ones are not Devils, but humans... We just fiddled a bit with things along the way."
Bologue was silent; he wasn’t good at debating and had no desire to argue with the Devil. One must realize these sinister beings are inherently cunning and deceitful.
"Let’s talk about the disagreements with my bloodkins."
Belphegor coughed twice, sat up straight, snapped his fingers, and the images on the screen sped by, forcing the intolerable movie segment to begin.
Roaring explosions echoed within the theater, and Bologue felt as if a bomb had exploded before him, the deafening noise leaving nothing but endless buzzing in his mind.
Images of war appeared on the screen: flames and shells filled the sky, corpses piled high, blood soaked the trenches. Everyone looked dispirited, like mummies crawling out of their graves.
"Let’s go; this can be observed more closely."
Belphegor said as he stood, and the images on the screen began to extend, as the scorched land crossed the boundaries of the screen, invading reality. Bologue barely had time to think before the blood-soaked soil replaced the smooth bricks, resting beneath his feet.
The air carried an acrid scent of sulfur mixed with a strong stench of blood. Bologue stood up in a daze as lethal bullets whizzed past him, soldiers raised bayonets, roaring past him, and before reaching the enemy lines, were turned to shattered corpses by machine guns.
Belphegor inhaled deeply, consuming the death-laden air, showing a satisfied expression before speaking to Bologue, "I enjoy war movies."
Bologue stepped forward, feeling the dry earth beneath him, realizing this wasn’t some illusion; under Belphegor’s influence, he truly stepped into the movie.
"Let’s understand it roughly like this: Devils are the ranchers, humans are the sheep, and souls are the wool you produce."
Belphegor led Bologue to a high ground overlooking the battlefield. Alongside the blaring bugle, a cavalry unit charged through artillery fire, breaking the opponent’s lines, swinging military sabers, cut down one soldier after another. Yet many cavalry fell amidst the bullets, tumbling over with their warhorses.
"I have some quite extreme bloodkins, for whom humans are merely livestock producing souls, and to harvest souls quickly, they’ve pursued many brutal acts through history."
Bologue mumbled, "The Eternal Night Empire."
"Yes, he once discussed his grand vision with me," Belphegor said, picking up a telescope to view the distant battle, "saying the Empire’s domain would cover the entire continent, with the Night Race being the sole rulers.
He believed no human could refuse the Blessing of immortality, with the only price being hiding in the darkness, and the Night Race would grow increasingly numerous, becoming the Empire’s cornerstone, working tirelessly day and night...
Oh, right, there are also ordinary people. He would corral a group of ordinary humans like livestock, who would breed continuously, then harvest a portion of souls cyclically, turning the entire world into a giant soul harvesting machine."
Belphegor laughed, "Efficiency above all." 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦
"Another of my bloodkins created another Empire with a plan named the Year of Turmoil. She would continually incite war. Under the threat of death and despair, humans would always crave destiny’s Blessing, even if it came from the Devil. As long as someone reached out to them, even if it was a dagger, they would hold tight.
Death, plague, famine... Suffering would make humans yield their souls merely for a moment of peace and nourishment."
Belphegor restrained his smile and shook his head, "As for the results, you’ve seen them; the Eternal Night Empire was destroyed by the Dawn War, and the Year of Turmoil ended with the Fall of the Holy City.
Humans have proven unexpectedly capable, twice thwarting my bloodkins’ schemes, even somewhat curbing their power, giving us, the more moderate faction, a chance to achieve victory."
"You also played a part in this, didn’t you," Bologue said, "This is a conflict among Devils. You wouldn’t allow one to dominate."
These two examples Belphegor raised were both conflicts among Devils that Nesanel once told him about. Now, Bologue heard another perspective from the Devil’s mouth.
"Indeed, which is why those of us in the moderate faction choose to collaborate with humans."
"Moderate faction?"
"I differ from my extreme bloodkins; if possible, they’d even wish to slaughter all humans, utterly destroy human civilization, whereas I appreciate human creations. Though we Devils inherently pursue souls, I, and some bloodkins, wish to pursue these insignificant things beyond soul chasing."
Belphegor snapped his fingers again; grand statues rose, but before Bologue could admire them, they were blasted into fragmented dust by artillery fire.
"You see, if left to harvest unchecked, these lunatics would burn books, destroy films, slit all singers’ throats, break all painters’ hands... Everything I love would vanish."
Bologue didn’t believe Belphegor’s words, "Is this your disagreement? Simply hobby-based."
"Sort of?"
Belphegor continued, "This relates to the domains we govern. For example, another of my bloodkins gains continuous power wherever there is war and death, unlike me who needs to labor hard."
Different Original Sins possess different domains, and their needs differ as well.
"Asmodeus is indecisive. As the Joyous Desire Witch, she requires strong emotions from humans. If she goes to extremes, I can imagine such a world; she would impose endless suffering on the world to offer her Protection as salvation."
Belphegor merely fantasized a bit and couldn’t help but shake his head, "Would you like such a world, Bologue, where every person has nails driven into them, tugging them occasionally, turning pain into pleasure, and numbing under its impact?"
Bologue had encountered many enemies of the Zongge Orchestra; just recalling them brought about a contradiction and twisted emotions, making Bologue extremely displeased.
"But my bloodkins don’t only like pain; it’s just that pain is the easiest emotion to obtain. If she could, she also longs for those noble emotions."
Bologue said, "But such emotions aren’t easy to get, let alone for a Devil."
"So I find her laughable."
Belphegor laughed aloud, "I love humans; among my siblings, I’m the Devil who loves humans the most. Asmodeus might’ve loved humans too, but she doesn’t get those noble emotions."
"Sounds quite contradictory."
Bologue recalled other Devils he met and their followers, "The Gourmand is forever hungry, the greedy forever unsatisfied, the slothful ever restless... The joyous desire eternally numb."
"Is this fate’s punishment upon you Devils?"
"Perhaps."
