Satan had been defeated.
The king who was the source of evil had been brought down.
Compared with the thousands upon thousands of years that being had tormented this land, the end was shabby.
Miserable.
Truly an ending utterly unfitting for the infamy Satan had accumulated—
or perhaps one perfectly befitting that wickedness.
And Mephistopheles, Satan's subordinate and rebel, the origin of all despair, had likewise been confined to Hell for eternity.
Even if she somehow escaped that maggot pit, as long as the restriction remained, she would not be able to act however she pleased.
One wrong move and her own life might be the first thing lost.
Lastly, Commandment.
A traitor and rebel who had turned away from her homeland.
And yet, a companion who could not simply be hated.
She too had cast herself into Hell of her own accord.
Even if that had been what she wanted, the fact that the destination was Hell did not change.
From now on, she would spend an extraordinarily long time alone upon that red, desolate land of nothingness.
That was the ending.
‘…Ah.’
The moment Faust realized that, his feelings became indescribably strange.
Something he had believed he could never obtain for all eternity had finally fallen into his hands.
There was nothing to be done about how unfamiliar, dazzling, and overwhelming it felt.
This victory that wasn't quite a victory was so unbearably heavy that he could barely breathe.
He wanted to die.