Chapter 491: A Conversation with the Demon (4)
Oliver, with one side of his hair bleached, collapsed straight down as he lost consciousness.
He looked extremely exhausted. It was no surprise, given that he had fought against a demon to such an extent. It was an unprecedented event, both in recorded and unrecorded history.
The Burnt One silently watched Oliver, who had fallen to the ground, then slightly twitched a hand. At that exact moment, a desperate scream erupted from below.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
The voice belonged to none other than Joanna. Suppressing her instincts as a living being, she ran desperately and swung her mace at the Burnt One.
Joanna knew it was a futile attack, and the Burnt One was even more aware of it, yet for some reason, the Burnt One stepped back to avoid her blow.
The mace cut through the empty air.
As the Burnt One widened the distance, Joanna caught the fallen Oliver with one hand, slinging him over her shoulder as she attempted to flee in the opposite direction.
She didn’t know where to run, but standing still wasn’t an option.
[Trying to save him?]
Just as she turned to flee, the demon was already there.
The demon had definitely been in the opposite direction just moments ago… it had moved in an instant, as if to demonstrate that escape was impossible.
Realizing this, Joanna did not despair. Instead, she placed the unconscious Oliver behind her and raised her shield and mace.
Even if she couldn’t win, she would still fight. Or rather, she would protect. At the very least, she had to make an attempt.
In her mind, the conversations she’d had with Oliver flashed by like a revolving lantern.
‘Hello there.’
‘Hmm… Is it because I’m a black magician that you’re being so cautious?’
‘I just want to have a conversation.’
‘What does it mean to live as a person?’
‘How have you been?’
‘The world… is quite an interesting place.’
‘Yes, I like you, Sir Knight. Because you’re beautiful.’
‘I heard women like chocolate, is that true?’
‘I don’t really understand what friendship is.’
‘…I just plan to go home and sleep. I’m quite tired today.’
‘…It’s been a while, Sir Knight.’
‘I came to seek your advice.’
‘Still, save him.’
The time she spent with Oliver. Honestly, it wasn’t that long, but looking back, each memory felt incredibly precious. It was the first relationship of its kind for her.
‘You, too, have helped me, Joanna.’
Recalling Oliver’s earlier words, Joanna told herself,
This time… this time, it’s my turn to help.
Like at the cathedral and the closed slave detention center, she wouldn’t turn away or avoid him.
Perhaps it was because of this resolve that, despite her trembling hands, she didn’t look away, flee, or give up as she had before.
Her whole body was shaking, and her instincts screamed at her to run, yet she still held up her shield and pointed her weapon at the demon.
Though she was afraid, she didn’t retreat. Though she was terrified, she didn’t flinch.
With her resolve to face death, Joanna stood before the demon. The demon opened its cracked, rock-like mouth and scattered a few small embers into the air.
The embers were tiny, yet vivid, and radiated an intense energy.
As the embers rose toward the sky, Joanna asked,
“…What just happened?”
[I just burned a quarter of the City of Sin. I have my own obligations, after all.]
First Step, one of the largest cities in the New World and a key military stronghold as well as a magic stone supply hub.
The demon said, as if discussing a trivial matter, that it had just burned a quarter of First Step.
Joanna took a few seconds to fully comprehend the meaning behind the demon’s detached words.
However, she could not utter a single word. She couldn’t ask why, nor could she protest or condemn the act as an atrocity.
It wasn’t merely because she was confronting the horrors of First Step. There was a far deeper reason before that. And it was…
[You’re truly worried about him, aren’t you?]
The demon, gazing at Oliver, voiced Joanna’s emotions on her behalf.
There was no denying it. At this moment, Oliver’s safety mattered more to Joanna than the disaster striking the city.
Even though she was a Holy Knight… nothing had changed since the incident at the cathedral. Even if it was a city built on sin, this shouldn’t have happened. Yet, she was more concerned about Oliver. That was her honest feeling.
The demon, staring intently at Joanna, posed a very malicious question.
[Do you love him?]
Caught off guard by the completely unexpected question, Joanna was startled.
“Don’t insult me. I am a Holy Knight. I’ve sworn to dedicate the rest of my life to the duties bestowed upon me by the Divine! For me to…! I saved Oliver simply because…”
Her voice faltered as she became agitated. The demon, disregarding her agitation, continued to speak.
[The Holy Magic isn’t a power granted by the Divine. Holy Knights aren’t beings tasked by the Divine either. You serve the Divine, yes, but you aren’t commanded by them.]
“Don’t pour lies into my ears!”
[You call the truth a lie when it’s spoken to you. The Divine refrains from direct intervention.]
The demon’s voice, despite lacking any overt persuasion, carried a tone that made people believe in what it said.
[But that’s not what matters. The important thing is whether you want to protect him.]
The demon redirected the topic back to its original point. Joanna glanced at Oliver, who lay unconscious behind her.
[Do you want to protect him?]
The demon asked again, and Joanna responded.
“…I will protect him.”
[But you don’t even know who he is, do you?]
“That doesn’t matter.”
Joanna declared firmly. To be honest, she was curious about Oliver’s true identity. After all, how could one not be intrigued by someone who conversed with a demon and fought against one that was nearly invincible?
However, it didn’t matter. He was an incredibly precious person to her. At this moment, she was determined to protect him no matter what.
[Are you sure it doesn’t matter?]
“What do you mean?”
The demon responded in its true voice.
“Can you handle the truth?”
...
Murmur, murmur, murmur.
The gloomy weather, typical of Celand, didn’t deter the crowds that gathered daily at the Royal Zoo in the capital.
With countless attractions and the aura of being a trophy room for the United Kingdom that ruled the world, it was only natural for it to be bustling.
Noblemen in tailcoats, ladies dressed in expensive gowns, their children, military officers, and middle-class families enjoying a leisurely day all mingled together here, where social ranks were momentarily set aside to admire the rare animals behind bars.
There were many sights to behold: a white tiger, a smoking monkey, an elephant performing tricks, a thousand-year-old tortoise, and a parrot that could speak human language. But the main attraction lay here.
“The Human Zoo.”
An elderly gentleman sitting on a bench remarked as crowds flocked to one section of the zoo.
He exuded an air of knowledge and experience despite his ordinary appearance, and no one dared to approach him except the old man seated beside him.
Judging by his presence alone, he could have been a high-ranking politician or a prominent noble.
“Care for some?”
The elderly gentleman, no, Puppet, extended a brown bag filled with peanuts to Merlin, who was seated next to him.
“No, I’m fine.”
“There’s nothing added to these peanuts. I just bought them.”
To prove his point, Puppet popped a peanut into his mouth and chewed. The savory taste and crunchy texture were a blessing.
“I’m not eating because I have no appetite.”
Merlin declined again while looking at the colonial natives confined inside the cages.
The natives, regardless of the weather, wore traditional tribal attire and sat around a campfire.
The zoo claimed to be showcasing the true lives of the natives, but it was devoid of any dignity. The visitors, however, watched on with fascination, unconcerned.
After all, they didn’t think of the natives as human.
“You seem uncomfortable here. I apologize.”
“I don’t need an insincere apology.”
“In that case, I have to admit I find this place rather soothing. Watching scenes like this puts my mind at ease.”
Puppet spoke as he observed a native performing a tribal dance in exchange for a piece of bread tossed by a visitor. Whether it was an authentic dance or not was unknown, but the bread-thrower laughed heartily, clearly satisfied.
“It helps me feel quite ordinary.”
Puppet, who had lived for centuries, never revealing his true nature to anyone and having conducted countless human experiments, spoke as if he was just an average person.
“They exploit their own kind for entertainment, and I conduct human experiments for my desires. It’s all quite natural. So, there’s no reason to feel guilty, wouldn’t you agree? It’s just the way things are.”
“Is that why you called me here?”
“That’s not it. I’m not asking for understanding, especially not yours.”
Puppet’s tone was calm yet sharp, for Merlin himself had once been obsessed with human experimentation, much like his friend Theodore, who had delved into magical supremacy.
If he hadn’t become an Archive, he might still be living that life. No, it was certain he would be.
“Why did you call me?”
Puppet responded with a question.
“Why did you agree to meet me?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why. I reached out to you, and you accepted the invitation. Doesn’t that mean you’re curious about something as well? Especially since I’ve been toying with the royal family and other magical factions.”
“And you’re fine with telling me that?”
“You probably already know, so what difference does it make? Over the centuries, I’ve been pursued by the Archive and have fought against it. I know well enough that the Archive is not to be underestimated.”
“…And you’re someone who has survived for centuries despite the Archive’s attempts to eliminate you.”
Puppet merely smiled, albeit bitterly.
But Merlin’s words were true. There had been several previous Archives who had made moves to get rid of Puppet, and Puppet had survived each time.
That was no small feat.
It wasn’t a simple matter of power but of survival and achieving his objectives. At this point, the victor was, without a doubt, Puppet.
“The reason I called you is that I want to ask about the Apocalypse.”
“…”
“Ironically, the ones who know the most about the Apocalypse aren’t black magicians or the Pater Church followers, but the Archive. How far has the Apocalypse progressed? A demon has descended upon the New World, hasn’t it?”
“Are you referring to the Great Fire? I thought it was caused by Pan and the Red Warlock.”
“Don’t take me for a fool, Archive. Even if my life is shorter than the history of the Archive, as an individual, I’ve lived nearly ten times as long as you. The demon may not have shown itself, but there were signs, and the mythical Great Fire occurred. It may not have appeared, but the demon has indeed descended.”
“Are you asking how close we are to the end?”
“Not exactly. I’m just—”
“-Ah! He collapsed.”
In the middle of Puppet and Merlin’s conversation, a visitor shouted.
Just as they said, one of the natives inside the cage had collapsed from exhaustion, causing a stir among the crowd.
Given their lack of proper nourishment and reliance on begging for food from visitors, it was no surprise.
Zoo staff soon arrived, driving away the grieving natives with batons and carrying off the fallen one. The body would likely be stuffed and displayed in a human museum to showcase the kingdom’s science and progress.
The natives, distraught over their inability to bury their kin, continued to grieve.
At that moment, someone threw another piece of food, and cruelly, the natives had to dance through their tears as they had been trained to do.
“…I just hope to complete my research. The Apocalypse could be helpful, or it could get in the way. I asked out of curiosity.”
“It sounds like you’re saying you’d be willing to cause the Apocalypse if it were useful.”
“You seem like you have no intention of stopping the Apocalypse yourself.”
Puppet retorted, his words sincere. Over the centuries, the Archive Merlin had consistently shown no intention of preventing the Apocalypse.
It wasn’t indifference, as the Archive cared more about the Apocalypse than anyone else.
However, despite this concern, there was no sign of an actual attempt to stop it. It was a complicated sentiment to explain. The Apocalypse was neither something they desired nor entirely wished to avoid, but they showed no real will to prevent it.
It was a contradiction riddled with paradoxes. As proof, Merlin, even while facing Puppet, did not attempt to kill him or act in hostility.
“You’re not an opponent that can be killed, even if I could temporarily incapacitate you. You’re the immortal Puppet, after all.”
“You could still disrupt my current plans, couldn’t you? Or at least ask questions.”
“Sometimes, questions reveal more than the answers.”
“Ah… I’ve been had.”
“Yes. I think I’ve asked enough questions for now, so I’ll be taking my leave.”
Merlin said, rising from his seat. Puppet called out to him.
“Day… no, Oliver.”
Merlin paused.
“The one you took in as a disciple—how much does he have to do with the Apocalypse?”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s obvious he’s no ordinary young man. Moreover…”
“…?”
“The demon recently asked for some dark horse Fixers from the Contaminated Zone. No matter how I look at it, it seems like it’s targeting that boy, Oliver.”
“…”
“Don’t you wonder why the demon wants him?”