That was obvious. Since he wasn't a devil, he couldn't use the power of the devil.

Arald tilted his head at that. It was a reaction that Frondier found difficult to understand.

"...I see. You can't use the power of the devil..."

"Of course not, right?"

"Right. It would normally be obvious, but I was kind of hoping..."

Hoping?

To Frondier, who was questioning that, Arald said,

"As you already know, I have my own information network. And I gathered information about you early on. Probably most organizations in the Empire know about it."

"...What information are you talking about?"

Of course, Frondier was a hero of the war, and most people already knew about him.

Arald said,

"The mana of Helheim."

"...!"

"That's something you can never obtain through conventional methods. No, in fact, it's impossible no matter what bizarre methods you use. It's mana from another world. Helheim is where the dead reside, and while there are some peaceful ones, there are countless wandering spirits and evil spirits whose souls are incomplete."

That's right. Tens of thousands of wandering spirits and evil spirits. No one knew that better than Frondier.

"I don't even know how to absorb mana from another world, but even if you do, it will have a significant impact on your mind. And on top of that, it's Helheim. Just being from another world is overwhelming enough, but you're walking around perfectly fine with mana filled with the stench of death in your body."

When Frondier first absorbed the mana of Helheim, he felt 'disgust.' Every time he used the Obsidian to absorb the black monsters, the black substance merged with the Obsidian, and the mana was absorbed into his body.

And in the end, he defeated the mass of tens of thousands of evil spirits and absorbed all the mana that came out of it.

It would be a lie to say there were no effects, but he hadn't prepared to die either.

"Devils mostly identify beings by the shape of their souls rather than their appearance."

Frondier knew that too. That's why Belphegor, who knew his soul from when he was young, recognized his identity.

"Frondier-nim, I don't know how you killed the souls of Helheim."

There was a slight curiosity in Arald's eyes.

"The 'power of the devil' won't be much different from that."

* * *

Bang!

A few days later, a loud noise came from the basement of a certain Tyburn.

"Ugh!"

The man, while running away, was finally hit in the abdomen and crashed into the wall. A man with black hair walked towards him with heavy steps.

"That took a long time."

Frondier spoke to the man who was already covered in wounds.

The man glared at Frondier with anger. Of course, his gaze had been like that since earlier, so it had no effect.

"You bastard! How did you find me!"

"Do you need to know that?"

This man was the manager Arald mentioned, the one who catered to the desires of the devils and covered up their crimes.

Arald kept his promise. He used his 'gourmet' desire to filter out high-ranking devils, and Frondier investigated this man who frequently participated in parties.

The current situation was the result.

"Damn it! One of the devils betrayed me! A devil with the 'cannibalism' desire! How dare a lowlife like that...!"

The mediator, Olivier, felt a slight sense of dissonance as he spoke.

Devils with the cannibalism desire were generally low-ranking. That was certainly true, but how could such a lowlife escape his control?

Frondier looked around.

This basement was Olivier's secret hideout. It was filled with evidence and traces of all sorts of crimes. Of course, it wasn't that there was no resistance on the way here, but as expected, most of the devils who blocked Frondier were weaker than Olivier.

Frondier drew up his mana. 'Analysis' consumed a considerable amount of mana, so it would be easily detected, but he could use it here.

"...Corpse disposal, crime concealment, and you yourself are a rapist... It seems your desire lies in that direction. You kidnap humans, rape them, and then hand them over to other devils with different desires. It's a despicable and cruel act."

"...Kuh, yes. Kill me. There's nothing I can do if you know that much."

Olivier said. As expected, it seemed that devils didn't value their lives very much.

'...To threaten a devil, offer them a life more painful than death...'

Frondier recalled what Arald had said.

But there was no need to threaten him now. Instead, Frondier approached Arald.

"This Tyburn is frequented by humans, but you managed to avoid getting caught."

"...Heh, of course. Humans aren't my enemies."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter if they're human or devil. Are devils the only ones who want to fulfill their desires!"

Olivier shouted. His words made Frondier's eyes grow colder.

"...I see. You're right."

Fulfilling desires wasn't necessarily limited to devils. He had learned something quite valuable.

"But you know, Olivier."

Frondier placed his hand on Olivier's shoulder.

"Will you submit to me? I'm currently in the process of recruiting the devils of the Empire."

"...Huh? What nonsense is a human spouting! Stop talking and kill me!"

Olivier spat out, looking dumbfounded. Of course, he would react that way. A devil submitting to a human was something unimaginable for Olivier.

"...I guess that's how it is."

Frondier nodded.

It worked out well.

Frondier needed a subject to experiment on.

'How did you kill the souls of Helheim...'

At that time, Frondier was also a soul. He had astral projected with the help of Laurie, an assassin of the Empire.

Although Laurie wasn't here now, he remembered the sensation of defeating the mass of wandering spirits in his soul form.

The power of the devil.

The Seven Sins.

Frankly, Frondier couldn't understand how desires or sins could be manifested as power.

So he simply repeated what he did back then when he defeated the wandering spirits.

"...The Seven Sins, the power of the devil."

"What are you muttering about all of a sudden! Just kill me..."

How could he possibly draw out 'sin' as power?

──I am nothing.

Thump!

Suddenly.

Olivier's body immediately fell to the side, collapsing as if his strings had been cut, and his head hit the ground.

"...What?"

Frondier watched the scene for a moment. Olivier, lying on his side, seemed to have fainted for a moment, but that wasn't the case.

His eyes were wide open, as if they were about to tear at the corners, bloodshot and red, his mouth agape, his expression frozen in terror.

As if hell itself had been carved out and shoved into his face, Olivier remained motionless with that expression, unable to move a muscle.

Frondier stared at him for a long time before uttering the obvious.

"He's dead."