Chapter 75 - The Count’s Domain (5)

A great commotion swept through the Fell God Society’s branch on Deathshadow’s second level.

“What is happening?”

“S-something seems to have gone wrong with a summoning ritual!”

Dense demonic energy blanketed the entire cavern. An unfathomable presence bore down upon the space like gravity. Everyone in the Fell God Society was shaken. The faithful rushed toward the summoning room, while the petty spirits danced in delight.

“What in the world has been summoned?”

“Find out what happened! Now!”

Countless believers converged on the summoning room. The moment they stepped inside, they froze, rooted to the spot in horror. They had come face-to-face with a being of unspeakable evil.

Eyes deeper red than blood gazed down from midair. Enormous wings spread to either side, spanning the summoning room. Black mist poured forth without cease.

A chilling voice sounded low in the room.

“You hold your heads high, mortals.”

Black smoke raked through the air. Most dropped to their knees at once. The few who failed to react lost their heads in an instant, fountains of blood spurting upward.

The believers paid no heed even as their comrades’ heads fell at their feet. One cried out in a trembling voice.

“W-we behold a great being!”

The others echoed the cry.

“We behold a great being!”

The Demon spoke.

“Was it you who called me?”

Every gaze turned toward a single spot, where a novice stood in a black hood. It was Ilea.

She spoke.

“I requested your presence, O great End.”

A summoner instinctively knew the name and identity of the Demon they had summoned. The novice had called the Demon before them the End. That meant an Apostle had descended upon Deathshadow.

The believers shuddered with awe. The moment they had awaited for so long had come. A high-ranking Demon had been summoned. An Apostle, no less, stood before their eyes. The Fell God Society’s dearest wish had been fulfilled.

They prostrated themselves on the floor.

“O Maphel’tan, master of all evil! Cast down the hypocrites, and grant us freedom and prosperity!”

“We shall devote our souls and flesh to your service!”

The thirteenth end was the only Apostle remaining in this age. If the being before them truly was an Apostle, he could only be Maphel’tan, the Throne of Deception and Chaos.

Maphel’tan spoke.

“How utterly offensive. Did you seek to win my favor with a mere scrap?”

The offering used in the summoning was a single bone fragment of unknown origin. Any high-ranking Demon summoned with it would have felt insulted. Had one with a fiery temper manifested—Kaiaze, for instance—the Fell God Society would have been slaughtered on the spot.

As Maphel’tan expressed his displeasure, the air grew heavy. One of the believers spoke in a trembling voice.

“A-an offering worthy of your satisfaction will soon be ready! Please set aside your wrath!”

Maphel’tan looked at him expressionlessly.

“I shall hear what it is, then decide your fate.”

Confidence flickered across the believer’s face.

“The Third Holy Grail. That supreme sacred relic will soon be in our hands.”

The Third Holy Grail was a Class One sacred relic. Used as an offering, it could summon a Demon with a single-digit rank in the underworld.

The Fell God Society had originally planned to conduct a proper ritual after acquiring the Holy Grail, but events had strayed considerably from their plans. A high-ranking Demon had been summoned out of nowhere. They were delighted, but in truth, also quite bewildered.

Maphel’tan’s red eyes flashed.

“The Third Holy Grail is a treasure the Watcher’s bloodline guards with their lives. You claim you can wrest it from them?”

The Third Holy Grail was housed in the forbidden library of the baronial House of Miyatro.

The believer spoke.

“House Miyatro will soon have a new master. The new lord has promised to provide the Holy Grail to our Society.”

The new lord meant Count Staviana. The Count had made a certain contract with the Fell God Society, and owed them the Third Holy Grail as payment. Naturally, Maphel’tan already knew all of this.

He remained silent for a moment, pretending to deliberate. Heavy tension filled the room. After a short while, he spoke.

“I am unmoved. It does not tempt me in the slightest.”

Anxiety crossed the believer’s face. If they failed to satisfy Maphel’tan, the entire Fell God Society might cease to exist.

“Th-the Holy Grail is a Class One sacred relic containing Marziel’s holy blood! Surely it would be of great use to you, O End!”

Maphel’tan shook his head.

“The Holy Grails only serve their true purpose when all seven are gathered. A single grail is nothing but a useless ornament.”

In short, it was of little use, yet too valuable to discard.

The believer swallowed hard.

“B-but...”

There was, admittedly, a way to corrupt it into an accursed object and use it. Maphel’tan was not even considering that option.

“The Holy Grail is worthless to me. Do not mention it again.”

His weighty voice struck like a thunderbolt, imposing a prohibition upon them as though through Words of Command. Trembling, the believers bowed their heads.

“We shall offer other sacred relics—nay, even tens of thousands of human sacrifices!”

“Please spare us!”

“We will find an offering that satisfies you, whatever it takes!”

Maphel’tan’s lips curled upward.

“Find what? You already have it.”

Several believers raised their heads to look at him.

“W-we shall present it at once!”

“You need only tell us what it is!”

Maphel’tan spoke.

“I sense an appalling amount of holy energy down below. Have you captured an angel?”

The believers began exchanging wary glances.

“N-not an angel, but we have a cradle that brings angels into being.”

“It is certainly a precious sacred relic, but it would be insufficient as an offering to you, O End.”

“Y-yes. We would gladly offer any number of other sacred relics instead.”

Their determination to protect the cradle showed through. Maphel’tan spoke.

“A cradle that brings angels into being. Intriguing. I shall accept it as my offering.”

The believers looked troubled. One mustered the courage to speak.

“O great End, the Heavenly Womb is not, in fact, the Fell God Society’s property.”

The Heavenly Womb belonged to Count Staviana.

Maphel’tan’s expression twisted.

“Then seize it and bring it to me.”

Ownership meant nothing to a Demon. Demons were, by nature, beings that took by force.

“I-if I may dare say so, that would be difficult. The powerful man who protects our Society has lived solely for the Heavenly Womb. Forgive us, but we cannot break his resolve.”

The Heavenly Womb was a sacred relic that awakened a human as an angel. With its power, even a corpse could be resurrected as one.

There was someone the Count wanted to bring back to life: his dead wife.

Maphel’tan displayed his displeasure. Dense demonic energy spread in every direction.

“A man who seeks to use the Heavenly Womb has dealings with you? That does not add up. Are you spouting lies at me?”

The Heavenly Womb ran on holy energy. To activate it, one needed ties with the Church, not the Fell God Society.

The believer swallowed hard before speaking.

“He intends to corrupt the Heavenly Womb into an accursed object. As long as it remains a sacred relic, it will never activate for him.”

An interdiction had been placed upon the Heavenly Womb: its use for personal reasons was forbidden. Mere longing for someone could not bring an angel into being.

Once it was corrupted into an accursed object, however, that would change. The interdiction would vanish. A Demon would be born instead of an angel, but the Count did not care.

He loved his wife. Longing for his lost love ached in his very bones. If he could see her again, he would endure anything. Even reuniting with her as a Demon would not deter him. His obsession was that fanatical.

Maphel’tan spoke.

“I care nothing for his circumstances. I shall have the Heavenly Womb. Do you dare stand in my way?”

The relationship between the Count and the Fell God Society was firm. Through countless transactions, neither had ever once broken the other’s trust.

The believer looked distressed.

“H-how could we presume to interfere with your actions, O End? But for the sake of all our futures, we beg you to reconsider just once. The Count is a capable man. If you make proper use of him, you will find your own desires far easier to achieve.”

Maphel’tan spoke.

“His obsession must be considerable, for you to dissuade me so persistently.”

“Y-yes. If the Heavenly Womb is lost, the Count will go mad. Our Society does not yet have the strength to withstand the repercussions.”

Maphel’tan’s smile widened.

“Your words only make me covet it all the more. I must see him broken. Humans scream most beautifully when their lifelong wishes are crushed.”

Malice seeped into the air around him. The petty spirits burst into cheers. Resigned, the believers bowed their heads. One of them spoke.

“... We shall not dare voice any further objections.”

Maphel’tan nodded in apparent satisfaction.

“Take me to the Heavenly Womb.”

The Heavenly Womb lay deeper underground.

“There is a being guarding the sacred relic. Please bear that in mind, O End.”

He already knew that. Maphel’tan headed straight for the Heavenly Womb.

* * *

Flags bearing an eagle emblem dotted the vast plain. A host of cavalry and a single ornate carriage advanced through the night. It was Count Staviana’s army.

Inside the guarded carriage, an elderly gentleman clicked open his locket. A portrait of a beautiful woman came into view.

“... Yeriyan.”

A faint warmth softened the elderly gentleman’s cold features.

“We shall meet again soon.”

His gaze was gentle as he looked at the portrait. The Blue Demon was nowhere to be found. Only in his wife’s presence was Count Staviana human.

After gazing at his wife for a long time, his expression suddenly hardened. A black crow flew up and tapped at the window. The Count opened it, and the crow dropped a note into the carriage before flying away again.

The Count began reading the note. His expression grew icy. Something had happened in Deathshadow. He had to return at once.

He extended a hand out the window. A knight approached in an instant.

“Your Excellency, did you call?”

The Count spoke expressionlessly.

“We are returning to the domain.”

Puzzlement crossed the knight’s face.

“The Council will convene shortly.”

An emergency meeting had been called in response to the attack on the royal capital. The Count was to preside over it. His attendance was mandatory; failing to appear would mean defying a royal command.

The Count did not care.

“Do you intend to make me repeat myself?”

The knight immediately composed his expression.

“My apologies. Your command shall be obeyed.”

The troops changed course. The Count looked at his locket again.

“Yeriyan, I will not lose you. Not even if it costs me my life.”

A chilling resolve settled in his eyes. The Count would stop at nothing.

Even if his opponent was an Apostle of the End.