“The specialty of House of Vlad is, you see, the Blood Horses fed with Blood Grass. They have high stamina, endurance, and exceptional intelligence, making them very useful for long journeys.”
To ensure we could head straight to the capital after resolving the matter, Mr. Layton had made preparations. He instructed the vampire from the upper echelons to prepare three Blood Horses, and the staff immediately followed his orders.
Though the power of domination had faded, the power of capital remained. Mr. Layton still had plenty of money.
“If you need to hurry, riding a horse directly would be better than taking a carriage. Blood Horses have excellent stamina and can handle mountain paths well. But do you know how to ride a horse?”
“I learned it before. Roka, you don’t know how to ride, do you?”
“I do. For our clan living in the plains, horses are part of everyday life.”
Then there’s no problem.
With the method of reaching the capital settled, it was now time to handle the requested task. We headed to Mr. Layton’s residence and felt the eerie atmosphere lurking within that large mansion.
Mr. Layton seemed mentally prepared as he swallowed hard. I ignored the ominous energy flowing beside me, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door.
Creak…
“It’s cleaner inside than I thought.”
The Princess muttered as she looked around the opened door. Of course, as we walked down the corridor and approached the inner room, she tightly closed her mouth. The floor was soaked with a mixture of blood and brain matter.
“Belron, Cynthia, Old Man Azukada…”
Mr. Layton quietly recited the names of the deceased. Complex emotions swirled in his eyes.
Whether they were close to him or had conflicts with him, there was no longer any reason to dwell on past grievances. That’s what death is. There’s little the living can do for those already dead.
“First, let’s clean the floor and handle the bodies.”
“I’ll take care of the blood.”
Roka, with her tail held high to avoid touching the floor, walked over with quick steps and focused magical power between her hands. Everyone was surprised by what appeared there.
Just as the Queen shines quietly in the night sky, a radiant full moon now rested in Roka’s hands. The brilliant full moon bloomed and began to absorb the pooled blood.
The blood pool trembled and was sucked into the moon’s gravitational pull, merging with the full moon and turning it into a crimson blood moon.
As that eerie blood moon floated in the air, dyeing the room in a red light, those beside me swallowed hard. The atmosphere emanating from that red moon was too bizarre.
“When I first saw the wolf lady, I thought she was nothing without the Power of the Sun.”
As if entranced by the moonlight, Mr. Layton muttered.
“While overcoming the sun, the lady has overcome so much more. I never expected her to develop this much in such a short time.”
“She’s already formed the shape of her magical power? What kind of realization did she have…?”
Even the Princess’s gaze at Roka was unusual, but the child showed no interest, as if all the admiration was someone else’s affair. Then, she pulled back the curtain and sent the blood moon flying out the window.
The blood moon charged toward the midday sun, only to shatter into ashes and disappear under the sunlight. The dead ultimately couldn’t overcome the sun, and the sun showed no mercy, even to the lion.
Having finished her task, Roka looked at me, seemingly expecting praise.
Given the circumstances, I simply patted her head lightly, to which she seemed slightly disappointed. But it wasn’t the place to dote on her in front of the deceased.
Splash!
I created a baptismal flask and slowly poured it over the already dead.
The exploded heads bubbled as the wounds were washed away, and the torn parts were stitched back, restoring the deceased’s appearance to its original state. Of course, this wasn’t reviving the dead.
It only eradicated the maggots, restored the wounds, and prepared the dead for burial.
We could return the bodies to their former state, but we couldn’t bring back the lost life. Whether it’s something the Lord cannot do or something He doesn’t permit me to do, I don’t know the answer, but I can only guess it’s the latter. Clearly, He allows me the miracle of revival.
“Priest…”
After showing only brief interest in the other bodies, Mr. Layton hurriedly called me from the deepest part of the inner room. Just from the emotions in his voice, I knew what he was about to ask.
“If… just if… the one you serve could revive the dead… I would do anything…”
“That’s not possible. It’s not that I won’t do it, but I can’t. I’m sorry. That’s something I cannot help you with.”
A female vampire who had hanged herself. Likely, Mr. Layton’s wife.
Despite being informed of her death and having mentally prepared himself, Mr. Layton broke down upon seeing her. He wept openly, unable to hold back his tears.
Though I cannot revive others from death, I can revive myself.
That is something only I know. Yurinel doesn’t know, Parnell doesn’t know. I never told anyone, and from the start, I intended to keep it hidden. It’s the only thing I hide from others.
If they knew, if someone else discovered this secret, it would be all too obvious that they would bring their dead to me and ask for revival.
I knew that those who have lost someone dear would go to any lengths to bring them back. But I don’t have the ability to help them, and even if I did, I couldn’t do that.
No matter how tragic the end,
No matter how much regret and longing remain in their lives,
No matter how many who miss them are left in this world, you cannot bring back the dead. All I can do is pray for their peace in the afterlife.
“They have departed. Whether they will go to the Lord’s side, I do not know.”
I clasped my hands together and offered a quiet prayer. Placing a single candle in front, I folded my hands and prayed.
I do not know what sins or good deeds the departed have, nor do I know what remains after death.
“May their path be guided by love and grace. May the hand of love lead them to salvation. May the Holy Spirit illuminate their hearts, and even the sinners be forgiven.”
“May their hearts be filled with grace and blessings, and may those grieving be comforted. Grant the departed rest, and lift the eyes of those in despair to see the new heavens and the new earth. I pray all this in the Lord’s name.”
I simply did my best as a priest.
As each person was placed in the coffin, I pressed my hand to their forehead and offered a prayer. I did the same for Mr. Layton’s wife, who had a scar on her neck from the noose.
Only after all the prayers were done did Mr. Layton speak to me. He seemed to have wanted to say something earlier but couldn’t bring himself to interrupt the prayers.
“My son, my son is missing. Zig, where has Zig gone… Did the one who did this take my son? And who could have done this… Could it be the work of the Demon Race? If not, then…”
“There’s no doubt now. This is the work of the Death God.”
A sinister, evil, and dark energy. A foreboding and ominous darkness.
An endless, condensed hatred that can only be described as resentment. It was palpable in this mansion. It wasn’t magical power but another kind of force—divine power.
“The Death God… Is that really the culprit who harmed my wife and son?”
“It’s hard to believe, but that’s likely the truth.”
The divine energy was so dense that any priest other than me would have recognized it.
It’s the Death God. It must be the Death God. The worst-case scenario has arrived, and a god has been born.
The bigger problem is that the Death God has already left this place. If it had appeared before us now, with the Princess’s help, we could have subjugated or exorcised it.
“Before the divine energy here dissipates, quickly call the priests of the Three God Faith and show them the mansion. We don’t know where the Death God is now, so we’ll need their help.”
The influence of the Three God Faith spans the entire continent, so they can respond wherever the Death God appears. Of course, for that to happen, they need to be aware of the Death God’s existence.
Mr. Layton nodded. His complexion was pale.
“Why would such a thing appear in this territory…?”
“That, perhaps we’ll know if we go to Mount Meso.”
“Mount Meso…? You don’t mean…?!”
Mr. Layton’s face turned white. It must be that.
The god itself held a grudge against them and sought revenge. There must have been some unresolved grievance between the deceased and the god. If the Death God had been born elsewhere, it might have toyed with them like playthings, but there was no need to kill them with such intense hatred.
“Let’s head to Mount Meso first. If that’s truly the origin of the Death God…”
We might be able to uncover more information there.
*
“Long live His Majesty the Demon Emperor! May the Demon Emperor’s Empire last forever! Long live Her Majesty Harmail! Long live! Long live! Long, long live!”
In the illusion reflected beyond the crystal, a masked figure bowed and worshiped like a deity.
Harmail, seeing through the pretense, was inwardly indifferent, but as the Emperor, she couldn’t show it. Outwardly, she nodded as if satisfied with his praise.
“Lich Albatross, the new lord of the Underground Castle. It’s a joyous day that you, representing the castle, pledge your loyalty to me.”
“Your Majesty. After our master fell to the Hero Party, our Underground Castle was in chaos for a while. Now that I’ve become the new lord and pledge my loyalty to you, I apologize for the delay in paying my respects.”
No need to apologize. You were just biding your time. These are merely those who joined late, realizing the true power.
If it were the ultimate sorcerer and seeker of death, Elder Lich Balzac, even Harmail wouldn’t have treated him so lightly. But his disciple? Who cares.
Still, she didn’t treat them carelessly because, for now, she needed them.
To hunt the Hero Party, she needed the help of these undead.
The Underground Castle of Flesh. A gathering of madmen even the Demon Race shunned. Foolish lives that chose to become corpses to escape death, and necromancers ostracized across the continent. They are outcasts to both the continent and the Three God Faith, but they aren’t welcomed by the Demon Race either.
After all, the Demon Race is also made of flesh, and they have no reason to welcome those who raise the dead bodies of family and friends.
Still, the enemy of my enemy is my ally, and they secretly allied against the Temple. Now that Harmail has unified the Demon World, they finally bowed their heads and joined her ranks.
Harmail’s words of satisfaction weren’t entirely false.
She had secured the obedience of the Underground Castle of Flesh, something no other demon had achieved. This would further consolidate her authority and make the plan to hunt the Hero Party easier.
“Your Majesty. The Hero Party is our mortal enemy. Just say the word, and our castle’s army of corpses will march on them at any time.”
“Aren’t you underestimating them too much, even after being defeated once?”
Harmail’s gaze shifted. Have their brains rotted away?
This Albatross fellow must have forgotten to preserve his brain when he became a lich.
At the peak of the Underground Castle, with thousands of Death Knights and Lich armies, led by their leader Balzac, they couldn’t defeat the Hero Party and were annihilated. How can these remnants be so confident?
“Your Majesty. At that time, we had no choice. But for our honor, let me say one thing: our master didn’t fall to the Sacred Sword. Our army never even fought the Hero Party.”
The Lich, Albatross, clenched his false teeth.
“But this time is different. We’ve confirmed that the priest isn’t with them.”
Honestly, the previous battle couldn’t even be called a battle. Just as you can’t call it a fight between the sun and a vampire, this was a one-sided exercise of power.
The divine power of the God of Hope mostly works as healing, but for the already dead undead, it changes to exorcism. From the undead’s perspective, it’s returning to being a corpse.
The effect is exactly like the relationship between a vampire and the sun. One is the absolute natural enemy of the other.
Even a slight touch of divine power, or just exposure to light, is unavoidable and irresistible. The 400,000-strong army of corpses the Underground Castle confidently mobilized simply turned into piles of corpses. The moment the Beacon of the Sanctuary lit up, it was all over.
Albatross survived because he hadn’t yet turned himself into a lich at that time. Only a few necromancers who hadn’t become undead escaped.
Everyone was too stunned to even cry. How could such a thing happen?
The forces gathered over hundreds of years by successive lords fell like leaves in a single miracle. They fell like leaves and became fertilizer. Thanks to that, the soil around the original Underground Castle became very fertile.
They rebuilt a new Underground Castle in the place they fled to, but revenge was out of the question. The single miracle Kyle showed completely overwhelmed them.
Only after he disappeared did the army of corpses crawl back out. The target of revenge was, of course, not Kyle but the Hero Party. Such a terrifying human left on his own, and they’re supposed to go after him?
Unfortunately, the already dead undead are selfish and calculating beings. The bond between master and disciple isn’t that strong. Though the master died, Albatross became the lord because of it, so he had little attachment to revenge.
He only planned to use this opportunity to owe Harmail a favor and solidify his position under the pretext of revenge. Anyway, the political calculations of the two aligned, so everything proceeded smoothly. If it weren’t for the video conference, they would have surely shaken hands.
“Your Majesty the Demon Emperor, I look forward to seeing you again.”
“I too look forward to seeing you again.”
Having satisfactorily concluded the meeting, Harmail stretched on her throne and gave orders to her aide, Sharon. She didn’t tell her about that day’s events, which could be considered their dark history, but the mention of the “priest” stuck with her.
If it were just Albatross bringing it up, she might have ignored it,
But Grimudo, the Primal Demon King, had also mentioned the Hero Party’s priest, hadn’t he?
It was impossible not to be concerned.
“Sharon, look into that priest a bit.”
“Our records don’t have much noteworthy information about him…”
“Once is a coincidence, but twice is not.”
She slowly rose from her seat. Her mind was already occupied with too many tasks for the newly established Demon Emperor’s Empire. How could she remember someone like Duke Shimira?
When the Demon Emperor’s Empire invaded, they didn’t even expect the so-called backstabbing promise from the Empire. The Empire might be one thing, but did the Temple look that foolish? Did the Church’s Holy Knights seem like a joke? It was a take-it-or-leave-it deal, so of course, she didn’t even keep it in mind.
“So, look into it. There might be information we don’t know.”
So, the matter of the priest would soon be forgotten. Unless someone mentioned him a third time.
