Chapter 787: An Old Acquaintance
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 787: An Old Acquaintance
"It has to be this kind of ordinary matter, completely devoid of power. The safest way to seal the remains of a Demon God is through total isolation. You cannot let it come into contact with any form of energy, otherwise, there’s a chance it could be revitalized."
Mela explained in a relaxed tone, though her expression remained solemn. "Of course, even this isn't foolproof. Once you have it, get to the Academy as quickly as possible. I will suppress it beneath the Sea of Mercury."
"The Sea of Mercury, huh..."
Muen rubbed his chin.
He remembered that the remains of another Demon God were already suppressed down there. If it was a facility specifically designed for sealing such things, it was indeed reassuring.
However...
"Me?"
Muen pointed at himself, looking utterly bewildered. "You want me to escort it?"
"Who else?"
Mela’s head spun around. "Do you think I’m in any position to carry things right now?"
"..."
Muen looked left and right. The current Mela was clearly just a projected avatar, and only a severed head at that. She certainly didn't look like she could carry luggage.
He glanced at An, then looked up at the massive hole above them. A whistling sound swept through the high altitude; the dragon revered as a Calamity had seemingly not left, still circling the skies above Gutons Fortress.
"Don't even think about it. How much of a stir do you think it would cause if a Calamity Dragon flew straight to the Imperial Capital? Every powerhouse in the Empire would be on high alert. That would only blow things out of proportion. I can have her give you a lift as far as the border, but for the rest of the way, you're on your own."
Mela encouraged him with the shameless face of an unscrupulous boss:
"Who else could I ask but my most trusted disciple? I believe in you."
"Fine..."
Muen’s cheek twitched. He was helpless against this punchable old loli. He could only close the metal container and have An seal it completely.
"I guess I’m just destined to be a beast of burden. It’s not like this is the first or second time; I’m used to it by now," Muen lamented miserably.
"Relax. This is much safer than the things you’ve done before. Inactive Demon God's Blood isn't going to suddenly jump up and punch you. What are you afraid of?" Mela said, sounding exasperated by his lack of backbone.
"I'm not afraid of the blood, I'm afraid of..."
Muen pointed at the container. Though it was made of cold steel, it felt like a hot potato in his hands.
"Are you sure no mysterious entities are going to pop out and try to snatch this on my way back to the capital? This is Demon God's Blood! It sounds exactly like the kind of thing every monster and demon would flock to!"
What if this Evil God or that Evil God suddenly ambushed him for a high-stakes, impromptu Evil God party?
And guess who would be invited? The Lord of the Stars? The Mother of Abundance? Or perhaps...
Given his Evil God Attraction Constitution, Muen felt the probability of them all showing up at once was distressingly high.
"You have a vivid imagination, but you're overthinking it. Inactive Demon God's Blood doesn't emit any aura, and it has no coordinates. Those Evil Gods are all ages away; it takes a massive effort for them just to send down a projection. Who could possibly track your location?"
Mela rolled her eyes, unsure if this disciple of hers—who usually flirted with death on the daily—was brave or a coward. Regardless, she spoke with absolute certainty:
"Unless they were to intercept you right here."
"I see. Then I can rest easy... Wait."
Muen, who had let out half a sigh of relief, suddenly froze. "What do you mean, 'intercept me right here'?"
Mela didn't answer. She simply looked silently to the side.
Muen’s eye twitched. He pulled An behind him and immediately followed Mela's gaze with wary eyes.
In a corner untouched by the candlelight, a pool of vivid blood had spread out at some unknown point.
The bright red was stark against the darkness, yet until Mela pointed it out, neither Muen nor An had sensed a thing.
"Who's there?"
"Ah, please, do not be alarmed."
A figure shimmered within the pool of blood. A refined gentleman wearing a top hat and a black formal suit stepped slowly out of the gore.
The old gentleman wore a kind smile and carried no hint of a dangerous aura. His polished leather shoes tapped rhythmically against the level ground. He looked like a traveler happening upon acquaintances by chance, politely tipping his hat to the group.
"Please rest assured, I have absolutely no intention of seizing the Demon God's Blood. After all, to us, such a thing is nothing more than nauseating filth."
"It's you..."
Muen did not relax his guard in the slightest despite the old gentleman's demeanor. On the contrary, his heart sank even further when he recognized that face.
If Teacher Mela’s head hadn't been right there, he probably would have been screaming for the Black Book to save his life already...
The reason he’d think of the Black Book first was because he knew that against this gentleman, he had zero chance of escape or combat. Without outside help, if this man truly intended to strike, Muen was a dead man.
Because this was the Second Seat of the Salvation Society: Black Jazz.
The Crowned powerhouse who had fought the avatar of Divine Will atop the high tower!
"Lord Black Jazz... what exactly are you doing here?"
Muen frowned slightly, quietly backing up until he was behind Mela’s head.
"I'm just a head. What's the point of hiding behind me?" Mela said, speechless.
"It makes me feel better psychologically."
"..."
"Mr. Campbell, there is truly no need to be so tense. I genuinely have no intention of raising a hand."
Black Jazz bowed slightly again, though his gesture was directed not at Muen, but at Mela.
Even though Mela was reduced to a single head, he showed her the respect she was due.
"That Calamity is still lingering nearby, so I would not be so foolish as to seek death at a time like this. I have appeared today merely on behalf of my Holy Lord to ask a question of the esteemed Mentor Mela Domir."
"Your Holy Lord?"
Mela raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I remember. That 'Salvation Holy Lord' fellow, right? The Pope kid mentioned him to me."
"To have his title known by Mentor Domir... I imagine the Holy Lord would feel quite honored."
"He left quite an impression. After all, that Pope brat spent a good half-hour whining to me about how awful he is. It’s rare to see someone get under the skin of a dignified Pope like that." Mela nodded sagely.
"I’ve pranked him so many times and never seen him get that angry. It seems that, in terms of temperament at least, he’s still fit to be the Pope."
"..." Black Jazz’s smile faltered slightly, and a few strands of his meticulously groomed silver hair fell out of place. "Mentor Domir is mistaken. All of that is merely a misunderstanding of our cause by the world under that hypocritical Church."
"Fine, enough chatter. I’m not interested in whether it’s a misunderstanding or not."
Mela dropped her playful tone and asked, "What does he want to ask me?"
"The Holy Lord wishes to ask..." Black Jazz bowed even deeper in respect. "Will you truly not reconsider our proposal?"
"Proposal?" Mela’s eyes flashed.
"You know what it entails."
Black Jazz smiled. "Our actions and our ultimate goal may not be understood by the ignorant masses, but they surely cannot be hidden from your eyes. It is exactly as we proclaim: to save the world. Nothing more."
"..."
Mela did not answer. She suddenly closed her eyes in thought, plunging the atmosphere into an eerie silence.
Muen couldn't help but start brainstorming. He remembered that the Salvation Society was the most notorious terrorist organization on the continent. Under the banner of "salvation," their primary objectives were the slaughter of humanity and attacks on the Church.
They had even attacked the Holy City.
And now, this Black Jazz had sought out Mela to talk about some "proposal"?
A proposal regarding what?
Just as Muen was about to burst with curiosity, Mela suddenly opened her eyes.
A frigid killing intent descended. Muen and An felt nothing, but Black Jazz, a Crowned powerhouse, couldn't help but begin to tremble slightly.
It was just like when she faced Divine Will. Though this projection possessed no power, she still carried the aura and majesty of the world's most powerful Grand Magister.
"Get out."
Mela said coldly.
"Before my mood sours to the point where I feel like killing someone, take your idiotic ideas and get lost."
"...It seems we have nothing more to discuss."
Black Jazz sighed with regret, but he seemed to have anticipated this outcome. Without further hesitation, he turned and vanished into the pool of blood.
"I shall deliver your answer," he said at last.
His voice echoed faintly through the space before quickly dissipating, as if he had never existed.
"What did the Salvation Society want with you, Teacher? What was the proposal?" Muen finally couldn't resist asking.
"Don't think too much about it. It's just the ravings of a bunch of lunatics. This miserable world has no shortage of self-righteous madmen these days. There's no need for alarm."
Mela regained her composure instantly and shook her head.
"However, rather than pondering such meaningless questions, there is something else you should be treating seriously right now."
"Something else?"
Muen scratched his head.
The interceptor had already left. What else could there—
Wait.
Muen suddenly realized.
Black Jazz’s arrival had been abrupt, but he hadn't come specifically to stop Muen.
He had even said he had no interest in the Demon God's Blood. His goal was simply to ask Mela a question.
And if he thought about it... if Black Jazz was still here, then the other person—no, the other thing—that had been fighting Divine Will... should also still be around.
Muen’s gaze sharpened. Behind him, An seemed to sense something as well, her elegant face clouding over with killing intent.
Tap. Tap.
Another set of footsteps echoed in the darkness. But unlike Black Jazz’s firm, orderly gait, these steps were noticeably erratic, like... a staggering doll.
A pink mist drifted out, but before it could spread far, it turned into black ash. A figure swayed as it emerged from the mist that had turned from pink to black.
It was a female figure, draped in magnificent, colorful robes. The exquisite ornaments, rare among the Demon Race, symbolized her high status. Even though every inch of her flesh had completely rotted, Muen recognized her at a glance.
The Grand Duke of Bewitchment.
But she couldn't be the Grand Duke of Bewitchment, because the Eternal Cycle had been destroyed, and all the Demons, regardless of status, had been turned into souls returning to the heavens.
She was...
【Heh... heh...】
The side of the Grand Duke’s face suddenly tore open. A hideous eyeball rolled out from within, staring greedily at the metal box in Muen’s hands.
【Demon God's Blood... mine...】
The voice was a chaotic jumble, but one could just barely make out human speech.
Muen, however, felt like he was about to snap.
"Why is it you again?"
The classic villain NPC who always showed up at the end of an incident, a party crasher who wasn't on the guest list... the Corrupted Love God had arrived uninvited!