Devil's Arithmetic の小説・ストーリー

I replied angrily looking up in his direction, “Don't you dare to take my mother's name in your mouth. You killed my mother, a worm of hell." The stranger still didn't react at all hearing my accusation. Instead of reacting or replying he laughed again. While scratching the back of his head with the devilish smirk on his extremely handsome face, he replied in a very polite way, “Xander, your father was a great king. I see the potential of your father in you. It was a pleasure meeting you. I am Armarous, the chief assistant demon of the great devil hell-king Lucifer." Xander also asked as calmly as he could in that situation, hugging me tightly, "Armaros, What do you want from us? Why have yo

Who works for the Devil! ___________________________

He should suppose to touch it but a red smoke suddenly evaporates from inside the scar. “What the hell is this?” General Malta thought as the red smoke thickened. He stands up and steps backward widening his eyes as he witnesses Goryo’s body slowly woken up. The nine-footer devil was standing in front of him with his red eyes flaming and bulky body traced with dark veins up to his face. General Malta grasps his sword and quickly pulls it out from the scabbard, he narrowed his eyes as he quickly runs to attack the devil. The devil’s body was too slow to move because of its bulkiness. General Malta manages to slit the skin on his left arm as he slides down between the devil’s feet. General Mal

Celea " But how are you his weakness?" Deon " Have any of you ever saw the devils face?" Celea " Yes, we did see his face" Zehn " I also saw it" Dereus " Does he have golden eyes?" Celea " yes...." * sigh* " There is a prophecy that is over 1000 years old" Celea " It says that the Devil will be defeated by his child, that child is the reason of the war 600 years ago" Celea

Mephiles looked up into the air to remember how it all began and how everything he has ever done led to this moment. For a long while, he stood upon the rampart and looked at every single star and the full moon. He looked up and looked back at his earlier days before he became a demon king. This is his story. This is his tale. This is how a man who sought ambition and a kingdom changed his life. A dark fantasy tale of the devil passing through the lands of the earth and the wolf hiding from the moon. The Devil and the Huntsman.

CHAPTER 2: The Leaked Videos. (Vincenzo’s POV) Last night, I was upstairs in the VIP lounge, nursing a glass of whiskey that had long since lost its burn. The lights were dim, the air saturated with perfume, lies, and secrets. The waitress had brought me my drink, but my mood was already poisoned. All I could think about was that girl... the one who dared to yell at me outside like I was some street rat. "Are you blind?" she’d said.

Lucian didn’t speak right away. He simply watched. And felt something twist in his chest. Not pain. Not exactly. Something stranger. “Is this a battlefield?” he asked dryly, stepping into the room. Elias spun, his eyes lighting up. “Lucian! We’re building a castle, and I’m the king, and Ayra is the royal inventor, and we’re at war with the Empire of Dust.” Lucian raised an eyebrow at Ayra. “Empire of Dust?” “It’s a long story,” she said, still smiling. “Involves sand goblins, a giant owl, and your missing cufflinks.”

If it belongs to someone I call ally, then the world I thought I could steer has already turned its wheel. I step out from the darkness with the calm I cultivate like armor. My gun is not raised—yet—but my presence is a lever. The two in the archway freeze. Isabella turns slowly, eyes wide in the moonlight, expression unreadable. The other figure steps back, swallowed by shadow, gone before I can name him. “Isabella.” My voice is flat. I keep my weight low, my posture ready. She steadies herself as if she’d been caught mid-fall.

I whisper to the mirror as if he is standing behind me, "If you are a real man like I thought you were, you will stop pestering my dream and confront me in real life. Come directly to me, let me prove to you what kind of devil you gave birth to." The image of him wailing and thrashing in the seat I tied him to as I emptied a gallon of gasoline over his head, comes to dance in the mirror of my thoughts. And sinisterly enough, I laugh darkly, wishing it can be made into a movie that I can watch when I'm bored. "Please, Mara," I remember him calling my name as I slowly played with the flame of the lighter, "Don't set Papa on fire." And it's ironic because that day was the first day he ever trul

Till he was just the breathing silhouette Sebastian had seen. Sebastian knows because he had felt the same. The day of Sarah’s death, he had felt a rage higher than a tower. He lost consciousness of every sense of morality that he had even pulled his gun scaring the kids that stood just where his daughter had left. He recalled the feeling of emptiness when he held lifeless Sarah on the ground, such that he had even wished a truce with the devil. If only it worked that way. So when Sebastian laid his eyes on the man, he knew exactly how he felt. A broken father.