Chapter 476 - Cayman (1)
Demons were categorized as one of the abnormal species, and since ancient times, they had been regarded by humanity as the embodiment of fear.
Human sacrifice, temptation, cannibalism, death…
Countless victims had their lives and families taken, directly or indirectly, because of demons, and on top of that, their corpses were offered as sacrifices, their very souls defiled.
And the ones who made significant contributions to that cruel history, were none other than the demon worshippers.
They revered and praised demons through rituals to obtain strength and knowledge, and some went as far as forging contracts of various forms with high-ranking demons, wielding grotesque powers in return.
It was not merely that they rejected the doctrine of the Church of Luas, they stood in absolute opposition to it.
Yet, contrary to the infamy built up over a long period of time… from the perspective of ordinary citizens, in the modern day the threat of demons no longer felt so close.
This was because the balance of power had been broken, as the strength of the Church of Luas, a global religion, grew stronger with each passing day.
Holy war.
The Church drove the demons back into the darkness, and the light burned away the shadows.
The demons who had hidden within society were rooted out under the pretext of the holy war, dragged into the open, and executed.
Demon worshippers became corpses with their hands and necks severed, and only after being subjected to purification rites through holy power were they buried.
Or else, they were burned to ashes.
'In the end, wasn't one of the three Great Archdemons subjugated by the Saint, the Saintess, the Pope, and the highest-ranking paladins of the time… since then, the demon forces have continuously walked the path of decline.'
Verden recalled the contents of the Church of Luas scriptures he had once read in the Magic Tower of Bohemirn, as he contemplated the nature of demons.
What kind of abnormal species were demons?
He had seen illustrations in books showing what they supposedly looked like, but surely the reality must differ greatly.
'According to Leira and Jose, they're beings utterly filled with malice. No, perhaps Jose's case is different?'
For the demon who approached Jose's wife had done nothing but provide medicine for her sick son.
Of course, even that alone was sufficient evidence for a cold, ruthless inquisitor to condemn her as a demon worshipper.
"Hmm."
Verden organized his thoughts as he wandered through the dense forest.
Several days had passed since his meeting with the Society, and now he was on his way alone to meet the very first member Melard had mentioned.
The location was at the far northeastern edge of the central continent.
Through Heras, Melard had sent word in advance, along with a letter indicating the position of her old friend.
Once its role was done, the letter was consumed in flame and vanished.
Whooooosh.
Leaving the forest boundary, a rolling meadow of green stretched out before him.
The cliffside along the coast was not particularly high, but since it faced the sea, fierce winds often howled across it.
'A small village.'
On the plain between the forest and the sea, there stood a tiny village surrounded by crude palisades.
Its population seemed to be little more than a hundred.
In the distance, he saw pastures where sheep were being raised.
A few villagers had descended the cliff to fish below.
Judging by their demeanor, it was more a matter of livelihood than mere leisure.
A pastoral sight.
Step, step.
With
Though he was walking in plain sight, the young man idly standing guard atop the palisade failed to notice him at all.
Verden stepped into the cliffside village where the demon's contractor lived in hiding.
***
The village streets were utterly ordinary.
Or more precisely, primitive.
At the marketplace formed around the well, transactions were more barter than coin.
Fish, lamb, furs, boar meat, fishing rods passed back and forth.
'For a village to be so accustomed to self-sufficiency means there isn't much trade with other villages or cities…'
An isolated village.
More importantly—
'None of the villagers bear the symbol of the Church of Luas.'
The people's faith and trust in the global religion ran deep.
It was not something built in a day or two.
Who could deny the Church of Luas its contributions to humanity?
Just as every human kingdom across the continent naturally upheld the Church of Luas as its state religion, the majority of people worshiped the light.
Whether as necklaces, rings, or otherwise, carrying the Church's symbol—the upright cross—was the bare minimum.
It was so common, that it was easier to count the people who did not bear it.
That was why this village felt so unfamiliar.
"..."
Observing the villagers going about their peaceful lives, Verden arrived at a house festooned with bundles of dried herbs.
Beside the door, a white flag had been planted.
'Just as Melard described.'
What's more, within the house he sensed a presence so overwhelming it could not possibly belong to any of the local villagers.
Passing through the propped-open door, Verden entered.
There, a mild-looking man with glasses was tending to a teary-eyed boy.
"Sniffle, healer… does this mean I'll never be able to walk again?"
"Ha ha, of course not. You only tripped on a stone, that's all. This will heal quickly."
"But it hurts so much… sniffle."
"I'll treat it for you, so don't worry. Just endure it a little longer, be brave. All right? No more tears!"
"…no more."
The healer soothed the boy with practiced ease, then spread a crushed mixture of herbs over his wounded knee.
A white bandage wrapped the bruised and scraped skin without a gap.
"Now, stand up."
The boy hesitantly rose from his chair. The leg that had been throbbing moments ago felt perfectly fine.
"Huh? Healer! It doesn't hurt at all!"
"I told you I would heal you. Still, it's best to rest for a day, so don't walk around too much today. Understood?"
"Yes! Thank you, healer!"
The boy bowed energetically, then ran outside in quick steps.
Soon, as if impatient, he began hopping on his uninjured leg, hurrying off to his friends.
A child's innocent spontaneity.
"Ha ha."
The healer chuckled softly, then gathered the leftover herbs for storage.
It was then—
Verden dispelled
"A treatment centered around the leaves of Larne, the main ingredient of a high-grade potion. Quite a unique blend. Excessive, even."
The healer flinched in surprise for an instant, then nodded.
"An old friend, Harkan, taught me that method. By sacrificing immediacy, the treatment deepens and broadens. It's something one would usually reserve for serious wounds, but isn't a child's smile just as important?"
"That is your value system, then."
"Ho ho, no need to dress it up as a value system. I merely wish to help those I wish to help… By the way, I heard you could perform long-distance spatial teleportation. I never imagined you would find me so quickly."
The healer removed his glasses, setting them upon the desk.
A sharp glint, absent moments ago, shone in his eyes as he turned toward Verden.
"My apologies for the late greeting, Transcendent. My name is Cayman Vermont."
The first member to ever escape the Great Hall of the Black Hour—the last survivor—welcomed Verden with courtesy.
***
All the doors on the first floor were closed.
To avoid any interruptions, the white flag outside the door was lowered, signaling to visitors that he was absent.
And already, the building had been secured thoroughly by Verden.
"This way."
Descending the hidden staircase, a vast, dark underground space came into view.
Fwoosh.
With a wave of Cayman's hand, the candles decorating the walls and table flared to life.
Verden narrowed his eyes.
'That's not magic.'
It was true that Cayman had expended his own mana, but though the resources used were the same, the process itself was entirely different.
A demon's power, perhaps.
Finding it intriguing, Verden sat on a worn chair.
Cayman brought out a moderately warm tea, then seated himself across from Verden, the candlelit table between them.
"My apologies for receiving you in such a shabby place. There really isn't anywhere suitable around here. At least I had some decent tea leaves left, that's fortunate. Ah, but… how should I address you…"
"Call me whatever you find comfortable."
"Then, I will address you as divinity, just like Melard."
Cayman Vermont.
Dressed like an apothecary, his outward appearance was that of a man in his thirties.
He ought to have been about the same age as Melard or Harkan.
'Strange.'
Piercing through his essence, it was clear he was deeply tied to demons… and yet, the way he conducted himself was no different from a kindly villager.
When tending to the injured child, when facing Verden now—there had been no falsehood at all.
'Aside from his younger appearance… just what makes him different from an ordinary human?'
As Verden pondered this, Cayman smiled.
"It seems you have many questions for me. Please, ask. Whatever I can answer, I will."
"Even about demons?"
"Of course. To explain how to infiltrate the Great Hall, I must inevitably explain demons as well. Please, don't hesitate."
"In that case…"
Taking a sip of tea, Verden posed his first question.
"In this village, I found not a single resident with a symbol of the Church of Luas. No one even offers a common prayer. Is that because of demons?"
"Indirectly, yes. This village was formed by the families of those accused as demon worshippers and executed by the Church of Luas."
The Church of Luas did not officially practice guilt by association for demon worship.
But among neighbors and in human society, the reality was different.
Those who worshiped the light despised demons, and avoided anything remotely connected to them.
That was why they looked on not only demon worshippers, but also their families, with contempt and cold disdain.
For the shunned, there were only two choices.
Despair until they took their own lives, or leave their homes behind with tears in their eyes.
This place was a refuge for those who had chosen the latter.
'So, it's a sort of sanctuary for people in the same situation as Jose.'
Now it was clear why they shunned the Church of Luas.
Perhaps once they had believed, but after watching their family executed before their eyes, they could no longer see that religion favorably.
"Then why do you remain here? And as a healer, no less."
"Becoming a healer was by chance. As I tended to people's illnesses and wounds, it simply turned out that way."
And then—
"It is only natural that I am here. No… on second thought, perhaps not natural. Unlike them, I am someone who survived only by forging a contract with a demon… If the Church of Luas captured me and killed me today, I would have no excuse."
Cayman spoke with self-mockery.
"But, I heard from Melard… divinity, you truly don't seem to abhor demons."
"Well, it's more accurate to say I've never had the chance to properly encounter one, so I've had no reason to form a judgment."
Verden's gaze lowered.
"So, I'd like you to show me the one you've hidden in your shadow."
"…as expected of a Transcendent."
Feeling as though his insides were laid bare, Cayman nevertheless nodded without hesitation.
Squirm.
Cayman's shadow, stretched long by candlelight, began to move.
A viscous darkness crawled forth, taking the shape of a humanoid.
"Its designation is Shadow Demon. As the name suggests, it parasitizes shadows. You could call it my messenger, or my knight protector."
The Shadow Demon's body was composed of something like dark mist.
On its head were only two round, white eyes.
"A curious abnormal species."
"…Does it not disgust you? Especially those eyes, staring without end."
"Not at all."
Compared to Gluttony, who cobbled together bizarre lifeforms by attaching and detaching parts from humans, this was almost cute.
As Verden observed intently, his gaze met with that of the Shadow Demon.
Ssshh.
The Shadow Demon lowered its eyes.
"…? Huh? Why did it suddenly do that?"
Cayman was unable to hide his bewilderment at its reaction.
But Verden ignored it, and asked his next question.
"Is that the demon you contracted with?"
"Ah, no. The demon I contracted with… belongs to the high-ranking class. Summoning the Shadow Demon is merely a fraction of that power."
Cayman brushed his hand over his abdomen.
"It was thanks to the power of that high-ranking demon that I could recover from mortal wounds—half my body destroyed, my organs ruptured and spilling outside. This youthful form, my very life, are also sustained by it. I'm nothing but a puppet, really. If the one pulling the strings were to let go, I'd collapse on the spot."
He downed his tea in a single gulp.
"Ahem, my apologies. Let's leave your next questions for later, and instead, may I first speak of the Great Hall?"
"If that's easier for you."
"Thank you."
The conversation at last turned to the main subject.
"As Melard said, there is only one method to infiltrate the Great Hall. You must observe its spatial coordinates from a place it does not perceive, and attempt spatial teleportation from there."
Cayman clasped his hands together.
"And that place is deeply tied to demons. Because it is a realm separated from the world, created by demons themselves."
He spoke softly.
"From here, I shall explain the refuge of the Archdemons, the 'Reverse World, Libereas'."
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