Messalina—no, Mesella’s life changed 180 degrees from one particular day.
Returning to the city with a child in tow, the first thing she did was cut ties with everyone.
It wasn’t even difficult.
Most of her relationships had already disappeared as if overnight.
From lovers to husbands, all had vanished without a trace, leaving her as good as a completely new person.
Changing her name to Mesella, she began selling off belongings to gather enough money to move to another city.
After all, wouldn’t it be more fitting for the possessions of the dead to serve the living?
Of course, selling off mementos wasn’t an easy task.
“A-Are you really planning to sell this? This kind of jewelry isn’t something ordinary.”
“The quality of this sword is excellent. But… What happened to its owner? A slender woman like you doesn’t seem like the type to wield such a blade.”
“This perfume is a luxury item made by the ‘Harpies’ Song’ guild. Are you really selling it to me?”
Who wouldn’t be suspicious when a stranger tried to sell valuable items at a discounted price?
Naturally, those with a keen eye for value suspected Mesella.
But who was she?
A notorious femme fatale who had burned through more than ten men—including both husbands and lovers—in just one city.
Of course, such matters weren’t something that could be resolved with beauty alone.
“Sob, sob! Every time I look at this jewelry, I see the face of the woman who passed away. I feel guilty towards her, but I just can’t bear it anymore.”
“This is my brother’s keepsake. It’s the last way I can remember him, but I know he would understand if I sell it to save our parents.”
“I just feel sorry for you. If you dressed up a little more, you could be loved so much more. If you let this opportunity slip away, you might be stuck living like this forever.”
A grieving widow, an expert seductress who charmed both men and women alike—Mesella knew how to use any role to her advantage.
That was how she managed to collect a small fortune without ever once facing a blade.
And with no lingering regrets, she left the city behind.
A New Beginning
Of course, starting fresh in a new city wasn’t easy…
“Oh my, a young lady I’ve never seen before. Your name is…?”
“Thank you for the warm welcome. My name is Mesella, and I recently moved here. Also, would you mind calling me ‘madam’ instead of ‘miss’?”
“Hohoho! My apologies! You’re so beautiful that I mistook your age!”
Her skills remained unchanged.
Upon arriving in the new city, she once again infiltrated high society with her striking beauty and silver tongue.
However, this time, there was one difference.
“Children, Miss Mesella is here!”
“Mesella, give us candy!”
“Sister! I want a doll instead of candy!”
“Oh my, don’t worry, darlings. I’ve brought plenty for all of you—just be patient and wait your turn.”
Despite her scandalous past, Mesella became a distinguished lady in her new home.
At the temple that ran the city’s orphanage, she was nothing short of a saint.
Even her relationships with men were clean, making her a desirable bride with many suitors.
“Are you really okay with this? I’m a widow with a daughter…”
“It doesn’t matter. The moment I saw you being loved by the children, my heart became yours.”
She successfully married a young, passionate knight.
Although he was of common birth, he had become a knight purely through his own skill—strong in ability and, more importantly, in bed.
Through him, Mesella learned the joy of being loved genuinely by others, and each day became something to be grateful for.
“Hmm~ Should I make some delicious gratin for my husband today?”
Even she found it hard to believe that she was cooking for someone else, something she had never done in her entire life.
Smiling, Mesella carefully prepared the ingredients, layering them in an oven dish with sauce.
A bit of pork for strength.
Some eggs, since her husband liked them.
A little asparagus—good for stamina in bed.
Finally, a sprinkle of cheese and breadcrumbs before placing it in the oven.
Knock, knock—
A steady rhythm at the front door.
It was an ordinary sound, nothing surprising… yet—
“Hngh!?”
Startled, Mesella wobbled, nearly dropping the oven dish.
Cheese and breadcrumbs smeared across her face, but she had no time to care.
Hurriedly shoving the dish into the oven, she rushed to the door.
She flung it open without even checking who it was.
Then, bowing politely, she greeted the visitor.
“W-Welcome home.”
“Mother, people will find it strange if you bow to your own child. And running here with something weird on your face doesn’t help either.”
A blonde-haired child stepped into the house, speaking in a dry voice.
Mesella flinched at the words and quickly shut the door.
Then, naturally, she knelt.
It might have seemed strange to others, but to her, it was second nature.
“I-I’m sorry, Lady Joanna. It was just a habit…”
“Please be careful next time. What if I had come home with Father?”
The child standing before her was the one who held both her past and her life in her hands.
Joanna’s indifferent eyes met Mesella’s trembling gaze.
The Weight of Sin
Inside the mansion, Joanna handed Mesella a sword.
It wasn’t unusual for a noblewoman in the Empire to wield a blade.
However…
“You know what to do. Clean it properly, as usual.”
“O-Of course.”
Mesella had washed the blood off Joanna’s sword countless times.
She knew all too well what Joanna had done on the nights she asked for it to be cleaned.
A normal adult would have stopped her.
But…
“What right do I have?”
She couldn’t.
That was karma.
The more one acknowledged their sins, the heavier they became.
And Joanna had even granted her ‘grace,’ freeing her from its influence.
It was thanks to Joanna’s mercy that she was alive, living a new life.
Mesella didn’t think she had the right to stop her.
“Do you want to wash up? I also made your favorite beef stew.”
Thus, the only atonement Mesella could offer was to care for Joanna.
And that wasn’t a bad decision.
Joanna hesitated for a moment before taking off her blood-stained hood.
“Wash the hood too. I’ll eat after I’m done.”
“Of course! Leave it to me!”
With a bright smile, Mesella took the sword and hood away.
Joanna silently watched her retreating figure.
Her gaze was complex.
“I was planning to send her to Him once she settled down.”
Albert’s cult had grown not only because of the addictive power of ‘grace’ but also thanks to Mesella’s influence.
She had personally invited the city’s elite into the fold—who would dare refuse?
She wasn’t the one who lured Joanna’s parents in, but she was undoubtedly an accomplice.
Yet…
“Has the weight of her sins lessened?”
Unlike before, she no longer found Mesella repulsive.
Joanna turned towards the bathroom.
“It doesn’t matter. Maybe He saw this possibility in her.”
The truth was, she had simply forgotten.
But Joanna didn’t realize that.
Arriving at the bathroom, she undressed and stood before the mirror.
She moved her body around, inspecting herself.
“Have my muscles grown more?”
At only eleven years old, she had already surpassed the normal limits of her age.
Her body and chest were no longer those of a child.
Yet her gaze was fixed on her muscles.
She had trained tirelessly, believing self-discipline was necessary to serve God’s will.
And it showed in the hardened shape of her body.
Finished with her inspection, Joanna entered the bath and submerged herself, closing her eyes.
Whoosh.
Joanna’s hair gleamed in a brilliant crimson, as if embracing the hues of the sunset.
It was a moment that reminded her that her god was always watching over her.
A moment she cherished dearly.
Gently opening her eyes, she imagined the budding flowers of that day and conjured a bloom upon her palm.
Despite being a relentless executioner of sinners and a dedicated warrior in constant training—she was, after all, still an 11-year-old child.
A girl-like smile bloomed on her face.
She wished this moment could last forever, but…
“If I stay in the bath too long, I’ll get a headache.”
Joanna was a child who knew restraint.
Releasing her power, her hair returned to its natural golden hue as she stepped out of the bath.
After patting herself dry with a soft towel, she went to find Mesella.
Mesella was already waiting for her at the dining table, having set out beef stew, bread, and salad in preparation.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Of course! Eat as much as you like!”
And just as Mesella had said, Joanna ate a lot.
Her rapid physical growth meant her appetite matched it—she devoured three bowls of beef stew, refilled her bread twice, and only nibbled a little salad.
She was still too young to enjoy bitterness.
When she had finished eating, she spoke as Mesella cleared the dishes.
“Let me know when Father returns.”
“I will, don’t worry.”
Nodding, Joanna made her way to her room.
Her room was remarkably plain—perhaps even stark, considering she was a young girl.
But what one showed on the outside was not always a reflection of what lay within.
Standing in front of a full-length mirror, she turned it around.
On the back of the mirror, several sheets of paper were taped together to form a drawing.
A horned monster, smiling gently.
“Hmm… Today, I should refine the arms a bit more.”
With a bright, unguarded smile that no one else had ever seen, Joanna picked up a pen.
Laying out several sheets of paper, she closed her eyes and recalled her memories.
The warmth of His presence.
His voice.
His touch.
The kindness of that day, forever etched into her mind.
And so, she drew His petrified form.
However, swordsmanship and drawing were entirely different skills.
Her artistic sense was as crude as her god’s was—clumsy, unpolished.
“I’ll have to redo it.”
But she didn’t mind.
Without hesitation, she burned the failed drawing and started anew.
She failed five more times before finally producing one she was satisfied with.
That was the extent of her hobby.
Maintaining her inner peace and relieving stress were, after all, essential as well.
Stretching her body after rising from her chair, Joanna moved towards her bed.
And then, she lifted it.
Whoosh!
“Now then… The one I took care of yesterday was Jackson, right?”
From a secret compartment beneath her bed, Joanna pulled out a stack of wanted posters.
Heading to her desk, she spread them out in a neat row before retrieving a hidden city map.
She drew another line along the edge of the map, marking a tally.
“I’ve now executed 28 sinners.”
Her god was right.
The world was filled with sin.
Even in this small city, there were plenty of people who weren’t worth the air they breathed.
Tearing up Jackson’s wanted poster, Joanna picked up the next one.
“Name: Joachim Bentel. Judging by his face and profile, he’s not the type to frequent upper-class areas. His criminal history is mostly related to rape, so he’s more likely to be found around the brothels.”
The advantage of being a bright and beautiful child was that she could gather all sorts of stories.
By playing the role of a sweet daughter to her new father, Joanna had made herself known across various parts of the city.
People, fearing something terrible might happen to such a kind-hearted girl, told her many things.
That a certain alleyway had been attracting unsavory characters.
That a particular household’s son was actually a wanted criminal, sneaking out with food in the dead of night.
That a serial killer had been leaving bodies behind without a trace.
She compiled all of these pieces of information onto her map, marking potential movement routes for the criminals.
Using a twisted metal pin, she pinned Joachim Bentel’s name to the map.
And then she thought.
“If I cleanse this city of all its sinners… will I be able to see Him again?”
Even with the training of a knight and the keen mind of a strategist, Joanna was still just an 11-year-old girl.
Even with a new father and mother—or something like them—she couldn’t find a pillar of strength as absolute as her savior.
Realizing that it was almost time for her father to return, she tidied up the map.
As she approached the mirror to turn it back around, she hesitated.
“At the very least… I wish I knew His name.”
With lingering regret, she ran her hand over the face of her savior in the drawing.
Wearing a bitter expression, she turned the mirror around and stepped out of her room.
And then—
“Dante, you’re awful. You really just left that poor child alone?”
“At least you’re beginning to understand the greatness of the Grand Judge. But you’re not quite there yet.”
Three demons had been watching.
Dantalion silently took a drag from his cigarette. At his feet lay a pile of burnt-out cigarette butts.
Savoring the blend of vanilla and cocoa-scented smoke, he pondered.
“If I don’t do something, that kid’s life is going to be completely ruined.”
Something needed to be done.