Chapter 77 - The Count’s Domain (7)

"Where in the world are we, Maphel’tan?"

Ilea could not take her eyes off the scene below. The city had unmistakably become a hellscape, but traces of an alien civilization remained. Burning skyscrapers rose high enough to pierce the clouds, and winged lumps of metal shot between the buildings.

A gigantic picture frame mounted on a spire kept changing its images and issuing strange sounds.

"This is breaking news. As of 3:42 p.m., numerous unidentified anomalous entities have been detected over the greater capital area. Military authorities have classified this as a 'Labyrinth Backflow' and issued a Grade One evacuation order for all areas. All citizens are urged to proceed immediately to underground shelters or disaster quarantine zones. Stay off the streets and away from windows. Do not, under any circumstances, look at unidentified apparitions or listen to unidentified voices."

The urgent voice repeated its announcement. Explosions continued throughout the city, and the stench of gunpowder filled the air.

Maphel’tan stifled a groan. There was no way to explain the situation. He told Ilea, "The interdiction prevents me from telling you anything myself."

Ilea's gaze grew calm. "Then this must be the place your extraordinary knowledge comes from."

She was not wrong. Chronicle of Humans and Demons was a novel from Earth, and Maphel’tan had navigated his circumstances using the information he had gained from it. Before, he had been unable even to mention that fact. The interdiction had stopped him.

This time was no different. He could reveal nothing. If Ilea wanted answers, she would have to deduce them herself.

Maphel’tan spoke. "Trust your judgment. That is all I can tell you."

A curious smile formed on Ilea's lips. "That will suffice for now. I've learned one thing for certain."

"What is that?"

She swept her gaze over the scene below. "Your hatred for this world, Maphel’tan."

The world was falling apart. Senseless violence and slaughter continued unabated. Everyone in sight was screaming. Acts committed for destruction's sake alone repeated themselves, as though giving expression to someone's rage.

Maphel’tan stifled a groan. "... No. I don't hate this world."

He loved Earth. He wanted to go home. He missed the younger children he loved as family. Even if he harbored resentment toward Earth, it was only a tiny fragment of his feelings.

Ilea said, "Can you really say that after seeing all this?"

Everyone on the ground was groaning in agony.

"The scene before us is nothing but a hallucination. It isn't what I truly feel."

Ilea shook her head. "Belzarak shows a future based on facts. Some part of your heart must want precisely this."

That was an accurate account of Belzarak's power, so Maphel’tan could not deny it.

"... What exactly are you trying to say?"

Ilea smiled gently. "Use this opportunity to purge all your hatred. Release all the malice festering in your heart."

Maphel’tan scowled. "You want me to immerse myself in the hallucination and utterly destroy this world?"

Ilea nodded. "Yes. Opportunities like this are rare. Let's wash away every lingering resentment and be reborn pure, together."

The moment he surrendered to this hallucination, his mind would be corrupted. There was no way Ilea did not know that.

Maphel’tan's face twisted. "Don't give me that bullsh—"

"I'll help you."

She abruptly opened her palm. Deep-blue mana began engulfing their surroundings. Just as Maphel’tan was about to react, a piercing chill swept through the air.

"Guh, haaagh!"

The man bound in midair groaned. A long icicle was embedded in his chest.

Maphel’tan cried out in alarm. "Yosep!"

Yosep was a knucklehead, but of all the younger children, he was the one Maphel’tan cherished most. Blood gushed from his mouth, and Maphel’tan felt his reason beginning to slip.

'Damn it, no.'

This was all just a hallucination. He repeated those words over and over, clinging to his sanity.

Cradling Yosep in his arms, Maphel’tan turned toward Ilea. She gave him a look of contempt.

"That is hardly a fitting sight for the master of all evil."

Maphel’tan spoke in a voice like someone chewing on blades. "... Who are you?"

Ilea had always wanted him to preserve his humanity. He could not fathom why, but she had certainly been wary of his corruption. The Ilea before him was different. She was urging him to fall.

Ilea said, "I am everything to you, Maphel’tan. I can be anything."

Her appearance suddenly changed. She became Yosep. Maphel’tan immediately looked down into his arms. Ilea lay there in Yosep's place.

Her eyes curved in a smile. "Like this."

Grimacing, Maphel’tan hurled her down. Ilea kept smiling even as she fell.

"... Belzarak."

Just as he was about to pursue her and kill her, black blood burst from his mouth. A long blade had pierced his abdomen.

With the knife still buried in him, Yosep said, "Yohan, I've always fucking hated you. Some unawakened nobody, always nagging me to do this or that. Do you know how pathetic you are?"

Enduring the pain, Maphel’tan seized Yosep's jaw. "Belzarak, you fucking maggot."

Yosep gave a nasty smile. "Yes, kill me. Snap my neck. Go on, take revenge on the world that looked down on you!"

Maphel’tan doggedly held on to his reason. With effort, he managed to raise the corners of his lips.

"Belzarak, you hollow thing without form or substance. You parasite that lives only in the imagination, I know you well. You are nothing but filth excreted onto other people's nightmares."

Yosep's form changed. A girl appeared: Kim Elijah, one of Yohan's younger orphanage siblings.

"Yohan, would you stop touching me? Honestly, it disgusts me. I'm scared I'll catch whatever you have and never awaken either. Please disappear from my life. I'm begging you."

Maphel’tan tightened his grip on her. "Changing your shell does not change your nature. You are merely a pitiful illusion, envious of those with flesh and blood. You pathetic imitator, I will see you as you truly are. Show me your true form."

Elijah's face abruptly contorted. The creature began changing its appearance again, but Maphel’tan did not miss that instant. He stared straight into Elijah's eyes and continued speaking.

"How long will you borrow the eyes and mouths of others to prove your existence and speak? I, the Thirteenth Apostle of the End, shall behold the true Belzarak. I shall grant you the flesh and blood you have so long yearned for and make you real."

Elijah's transformation stopped. Her face grotesquely swollen, she said, "... How could someone like you do that, Yohan?"

"You have no choice. By now, the witch has probably awakened from her hallucination."

Ilea had already known about Belzarak's power. Having even observed how it attacked, she would never fall victim to its hallucinations.

Elijah's expression darkened. "That bitch really was a witch."

"You should have been more careful whom you toyed with. You're wasting my time. End the hallucination."

Maphel’tan had also recovered most of his reason. He too knew Belzarak well, and his status as an Apostle gave him considerable resistance to mental attacks. Even if he experienced dozens of hallucinations, there was almost no chance of his losing his sense of self.

Mental attacks and Words of Command worked best on beings inferior to their wielder. Prolonging this situation would achieve nothing but a pointless war of attrition.

Elijah asked, "Will you really give me a physical form?"

The creature's ability was useful. Keeping it at his side would help him in many ways. Maphel’tan nodded.

"First, let me see your true form."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the scene before him shattered. The ashen-gray chamber reappeared.

One thing had changed. A transparent coffin stood alone in the middle of the chamber. The Heavenly Womb—the cradle that gestated angels. The skeleton lying inside was presumably the Count's wife.

Ilea approached with a forced smile. There was an inexplicable cruelty in it.

"Today I learned what irritation feels like. What a thoroughly unpleasant experience."

Her gaze shifted to a spot on the floor. Something black and slimy was writhing there. It was Belzarak. The creature had no eyes, nose, or mouth. It looked like nothing more than concentrated sewer sludge.

Maphel’tan said, "I didn't find it particularly pleasant either."

Murderous intent flickered in Ilea's eyes. Just what sort of nightmare had she experienced? Maphel’tan was intensely curious.

Looking at Belzarak, Ilea asked, "I'm still angry. May I annihilate it right now?"

For her to show so much emotion... He did not know the details, but she must have experienced a truly horrific hallucination.

'I'll have to ask her later.'

Maphel’tan said, "Bear with it a little longer. It's useful for now."

Ilea let out a long sigh. "Of course it is. What do we do now?"

Maphel’tan perched on the glass coffin. "Wait for the Count."

Count Staviana was their ultimate objective in coming here. Their preparations to receive him were complete. Maphel’tan looked entirely at ease.

* * *

As soon as the Count arrived at his mansion, he headed to the cellar to go straight to Deathshadow. The cellar connected directly to Deathshadow's third level.

He immediately boarded the lift. Someone channeled mana into it, and it began to move. The Count closed his eyes.

'Yeriyan, please be safe.'

His heart raced. He could not even imagine losing his wife. The descent felt like an eternity.

At last, the lift stopped.

"Y-Your Excellency!"

"Just a moment—"

Ignoring the Fell God Society believers, the Count headed straight for the chamber. He ran at full speed. Two figures came into view in the distance.

'The Apostle and the mage.'

That was what the report had said. The reality was different.

Bewilderment spread across the Count's face. A boy and a girl were sitting on the Heavenly Womb.

He caught his breath and looked ahead again. They were indeed a boy and a girl. There was no Demon or mage.

The boy curled his lips into a smile and spoke. "Cromwell Staviana. I will give you two choices."

The Count was utterly bewildered. "W-What is this...?"

"First, follow your wife into the afterlife. Second, make a deal with me and grow old with her in this life."

Ilea smiled gently. "Go on, choose. Whichever you pick, you can spend the rest of your life with your wife."

Yohan tapped the glass coffin with his index finger. "Answer quickly. How long do you intend to keep your wife waiting?"

The Count could not process what was happening. He stood frozen for a long time, his expression blank.