Everyone in the Indulging God Cult, including Alme, knew that name.
So who was Lascall Othello? Almost everyone in the Cult did not know.
Was Lascall a man or a woman? Was it their name or their title? What did they do, or were they doing anything at all? Were they an individual or several people? Did they exist or not?
Everyone knew and didn’t know. That was Lascall Othello.
When she was a member of the Indulging God Cult, Alme asked her allies about Lascall.
There was the man named Winkeny. He was a warrior, but didn’t have any battle power. He was an odd man who shaved his head with a razor every day.
“Yeah. Know about him?”
Winkeny crossed his arms and thought for a while.
“I heard that name when I got into the Cult. I remember the Overseer of Paradise telling me to give my best efforts so I would be recognized by Lascall Othello.”
There was the man named Locolo. He had a considerable fighting ability, but his thoughts were shallow. He was a man often sneered upon by his peers.
“Lascall Othello, huh? I know about him.”
“Who is he?”
“Someone told me that Lascall Othello protects the Indulging God Cult.”
“How does he protect it?”
“As for that, I have no clue.”
She tried asking the man called Boramot. He was the servant of Ganbanzel, the True Man who raised a monster. He once also served as Alme and Winkeny’s instructor.
“I don’t really know about him. And I have no reason to answer you.”
“Because Ganbanzel-sama said so. Everyone who chases after Lascall Othello dies.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t ask that either. If I’ll become involved in that I will probably not live.”
Everyone knew, but no-one knew. That was Lascall Othello.
Was he the Cult’s ally? If he was, why did nobody know of his identity? Did he actually exist in the first place? Alme didn’t understand anything.
But, one thing she did know. He was undoubtedly her enemy.
That was because Cigal Crukessa was killed by Lascall.
Alme walked through a back alley. It wasn’t raining, but she could see muddy puddles of water here and there. It was overflowing sewage leaking to the surface. With each step, more water soaked into her shoes.
Alme left the False Men from the Indulging God Cult she killed earlier as they were.
Let alone hiding the murder, she didn’t even throw away the bodies. She of course knew it would turn into quite the fuss after a while.
Alme suddenly stopped walking.
She looked up above. She could faintly hear the sounds of a violin. She took notice of a light coming from an apartment on a building’s second floor.
She kicked the ground and leaped. By kicking the wall, she jumped yet again. Smashing the apartment’s window with a kick, she broke inside.
Inside the apartment, a man was holding a violin. The cheap-looking apartment didn’t seem like it belonged to some artist with a name. He was probably a street performer or part of an orchestra.
The man rolled off his chair at the sudden situation.
Alme pulled out her sword before the man could yell. She didn’t even wipe the blood off of it after having just killed some people. It was covered in hair, skin and pieces of meat.
Having seen the sword, the man’s face became frozen.
“M-my money is at the bottom cupboard…”
He pointed towards his cupboard. He probably thought Alme was a robber. Without even looking at the cupboard, she pointed her sword at the man.
The violin player picked up his bowstring, shaking. He re-sat on his chair and inquired Alme.
“What do I…?”
“Play whatever you like.”
Saying so, she brought the sword closer to the man.
“…Then I’ll play ‘The Wharf’.”
The violinist began playing the theme song of an old silent movie. Alme quietly listened to it.
The man caught glimpses of Alme’s face as he continued playing. Around the time he finished the song’s climax for the first time, Alme moved.
The man couldn’t even react. Her sword swept sideways and cut through the bones of his neck.
“A rotten tone that was.”
Alme said while looking down the man’s body as it sprayed water like a fountain.
This murder had no meaning. She only killed because she wanted to.
The Indulging God Cult was said to be an abhorrent, evil cult. Even in it, the number of people who senselessly killed people like Alme was small. Certainly they would kill countless of people for their goals; but there were almost none that would make killing people itself their goal. The exceptions were Alme and once also Enlike.
“I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Telling so to the man’s corpse, Alme picked up the violin and bowstring. The hand that held the sword earlier used completely different, elegant hand movements as the bowstring touched the violin.
The tone of the violin was now clearly more beautiful than that of its previous owner. Her technique was probably above that of the murdered man. However, there was still something different in the music itself.
The tone was repulsive and sad to the extent it didn’t seem like it was the same melody. If there was an audience there, they would undoubtedly shiver.
Tears came to Alme’s eyes.
She once played this music for Cigal. It was one of the few songs he liked.
“Your music is as beautiful as it is evil.”
The Cigal of days past thus praised Alme’s violin playing.
The instant the melody ended, her accumulated tears fell at once along her cheeks and down the floor. Cigal was the only person who understood her.
He was no longer in this world. This meant there was no longer anyone in the world that could understand Alme’s heart.
The unforgettable September of 1914. Alme was inside one hideout at the Ismo Republic. A modest feast was held inside.
The ones attending were the executives who managed the False Men. Their lineup was varied – famed businessmen, bosses of the underworld, associates from the Present Management Agency, famous politicians and even Zatoh, the man who called himself Ganbanzel’s Monster.
This feast, hidden from the public, was held to commemorate the anticipated death of Hamyuts Meseta.
“Cigal-sama killing our mortal enemy Hamyuts will bring us no honor.”
Said the commander of the combat forces.
“I do not mind. If Hamyuts kicks the bucket, I only need to kill the rest.”
The Monster Zatoh answered.
“Really, we should be grateful for Cigal. Not only for killing Hamyuts, but because we can also use the power of Dragon Pneumonia to hold the world in our hands.”
Alme didn’t join their conversation. Since she was low-ranking, her job was guarding the area with her Sensory Threads.
Everyone was convinced of Cigal’s victory. His plan was flawless.
“Soon the typhoon will pass.”
One man said.
At that time, a subordinate came rushing inside.
“Cigal-sama has… lost.”
The banquet was wrapped in silence as if time had stopped. The liquor bottle held by Alme fell to the floor and was smashed.
“There’s no way he lost… Who, who did he lose to? Mattalast? Ireia?”
“…To a Meat. A Meat that Cigal-sama turned into a bomb killed him.”
Alme’s scream cut off the silence.
“What have we been doing?! If we’ve only backed up Cigal this wouldn’t have…”
“But Cigal-sama was the one to say he didn’t need any help, right?”
“Right, Cigal-sama’s plan was too naïve.”
“However, defeated by a Meat… is such a thing possible?”
In an instant, the drunken executives started yelling at each other, spit flying from their mouths.
Their words went past Alme’s ears. She sank to the floor and sat stunned.
“…Haa, how stupid.”
Zatoh rose up.
“After all that it comes to me.”
Hearing those words, Alme lost all reason.
Alme wielded her sword and stabbed the table. She didn’t care who or what she hit. She just couldn’t stand it.
In the sudden confusion, the executives started moving. They kicked their chairs and ran away. Alme’s sword, swung around recklessly, followed them.
“What’s that woman doing?”
At the same time as those words, cloth wrapped around Alme’s sword. It was a sleeve extending up to 10 meters, coming from Zatoh. What’s that ability?
“Did something happen to you with Cigal?”
Saying this, Zatoh touched Alme’s forehead with his fingers. At the same time, an impact ran through her brain. Before she could even think about what was done to her, the world became dark.
When she opened her eyes, she was in an unknown room.
“…That girl’s been sleeping for three days. Isn’t it about time she woke up?”
“As if I know. I just want to eat her if she dies.”
“More importantly, it seemed that ability was helpful.”
Zatoh and an old man were discussing these words next to Alme.
Who’s that old man? While thinking this, Alme raised her body. Her whole body ached, perhaps because she was lying down for so long.
“Ah, she woke up. How boring.”
Zatoh said. At that moment, she recalled the name of the old man. With a thud, Alme’s hands came down the floor.
“F-for earlier… please forgive me…”
The man’s name was Ganbanzel – one of the True Men.
“A strange woman. Just when I thought she was going to rampage she ends up prostrating in front of you.”
“That’s the girl she is. She’s famous for being obedient.”
Ganbanzel pointed at the floor. Alme once again rubbed her head against the floor. Ganbanzel watched it with pleasure while Zatoh seemed bored.
“Oho, ohohoho. That’s good, obedient girl.”
Ganbanzel laughed. She heard his laughter while her teeth shook in humiliation. The old man was looking down on her. Even if he was a True Man, she couldn’t forgive him for that.
However, right now Alme couldn’t do anything. The difference between them was absolute.
“Oh right, I wanted to speak with you. I thought I’d tell you about when Cigal died. Do you want to know?”
“Thank you very much.”
Alme said while prostrating herself.
“Is there any point to that?”
“Be silent, Zatoh. I am generous.”
Leaving those words behind, Zatoh left the room.
“Let’s leave Zatoh alone. More importantly, about Cigal. Oh no, it’s so amusing. This is a much too amusing sight to see.”
Ganbanzel received the report detailing the circumstances of the incident. Alme heard it while prostrating herself to him.
“…And that’s it. Did you understand?”
The battle strategy was perfect just as everyone thought it were – except for the uncertain element named Colio Tonies. Why did it come to that? It was obvious. It was only because that Meat received Shiron’s Books.
“Ganbanzel-sama. Why did that Meat have Shiron’s Books?”
“Hmm, are you asking me?”
“Lascall Othello was supposed to have these Books. Why did a Meat get them?”
“Lascall probably gave them to him.”
“Wasn’t this Lascall Othello supposed to be our ally?”
“We’re separate in the first place. We don’t share our thoughts and knowledge with him.”
Alme became speechless. Ganbanzel flung his words at her.
“Or perhaps Cigal threw them away.”
“…Threw them away? But why would he…”
The moment she wanted to continue the conversation, Alme’s head was trampled.
“Oh my, you’ve talked too much. It’s important to keep our chatter to moderation.”
“Girl. You are one of the Indulging God Cult. Don’t try poking your nose in too far. If you want to get into Heaven, you mustn’t look for Lascall. You want to ascend to Heaven, right?”
Alme did not nod her head – and not because it was stepped on. It was because she had a thing far more important than going to Heaven.
To her confusion, Alme was demoted to a messenger. This was the lowest position among False Men. While serving the Cult just as she did before outwardly, Alme’s hatred kept burning. It did not dim even in times of tedium. Just like heated steel, it only became hotter.
Alme thought to herself,
I’ll kill you, of course. You are the ringleader who killed Cigal-sama.
Colio Tonies. Shiron Booyacornish.
Regrettably you are already dead. If only I could revive you, I would have killed you again.
Mirepoc Finedell and Mattalast Ballory.
Both of you were useless, but you’re on league with Hamyuts. I’ll kill you.
Finally, Lascall Othello.
Why did you let Cigal-sama die? You are also guilty. No, your crimes are the worst. I’ll kill you. I will definitely find and kill you.