Cursed Scripture (3)
Cursed Scripture (3)
The underground study of the lord’s castle was engulfed in pitch-black smoke.
Miasma spilling out from the massive stone tablet—the Cursed Scripture—was swallowing up the interior.
“My hypothesis was spot on.”
As Illea had predicted, the original Cursed Scripture reacted to Johan.
The skulls covering the engraved letters were creaking, their joints groaning. Red lights flared within their empty eye sockets.
Those eerie gazes scanned Johan from head to toe, measuring him.
Johan muttered in a low voice.
“……Unbelievable.”
Was he really supposed to be an Apostle or something? It was difficult to accept.
Having read the original work, he knew well that he had no qualifications to be an Apostle.
This phenomenon surely stemmed from some error.
The Cursed Scripture would soon stop functioning.
Contrary to his assumption, the skulls began to retreat behind the stone tablet.
Creak, creak.
With dull bone sounds, they disappeared from sight.
The original, Chapter 1 of the Cursed Scripture, was fully revealed.
『 Chapter 1, Book of Destruction 』
A hymn to the First Apostle of the Apocalypse, Kargara, was densely engraved on the tablet in letters red as blood.
Johan silently stared at the Cursed Scripture. He didn’t show it outwardly, but he was greatly shaken.
Amid the silence, Illea opened her mouth.
“The thirteenth apocalypse, the nameless Apostle, I greet you.”
She playfully bent her waist in a bow.
Johan wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
‘This wasn’t in the plan.’
Since possessing this body, small variables had occurred a few times, but this was the first time something this extreme had happened.
Suddenly an Apostle? This unplanned development was giving Johan a headache.
Many of his plans would be disrupted.
Even if he had gained the authority of an Apostle, it wasn’t an intentional situation, so discomfort kept rising.
That was the kind of person Johan was. Whether it was fortune or misfortune, he disliked variables themselves.
He spoke in a low voice.
“This isn’t it.”
Illea tilted her head.
“Do you hate it that much?”
Denying it even in the face of clear evidence—it wasn’t like Johan.
“It’s not about liking or hating it. I have proven none of the qualifications of an Apostle.”
“But the Cursed Scripture reacted to you.”
“It must have seen potential within me. That’s the most plausible hypothesis.”
“Potential for what?”
“The potential to become an Apostle.”
To be called an Apostle was to be an existence like an ancient god.
Just being slightly more outstanding than others wasn’t enough for a demon who had just barely escaped the rank of an Imp to stand alongside them.
Only by piling up great acts of evil and acquiring power befitting that authority could one finally be called an Apostle.
The Cursed Scripture had acknowledged Johan, but the Mother of All Evil would surely doubt him.
Illea slowly nodded.
“So you’re saying you have the vessel, but it hasn’t been filled yet.”
“It’s just my guess. We’ll have to investigate further to know the details.”
“I’ll help you. Now that the gate has opened, the answer will come quickly.”
“You’re reliable. You landed a solid hit on the first attempt.”
Johan had no choice but to acknowledge Illea’s competence.
‘She’s certainly reassuring when she’s on my side.’
Though she would be quite the headache if they ever became enemies.
She spoke playfully.
“You want to keep me by your side, don’t you?”
“Yeah, let’s stick together for as long as we can.”
At that unexpected response, Illea looked a little flustered.
“That was sudden.”
“I mean it.”
Johan didn’t want her as an enemy.
Illea awkwardly adjusted her skirt, as if trying to hide her fluster.
‘Is she embarrassed?’
It was an uncharacteristic reaction for her. Just as Johan was feeling puzzled, heavy footsteps echoed in the underground.
Everyone looked toward the staircase.
A giant silhouette was descending into the underground.
“This place is nothing but a den of evil.”
He swept his gaze around the study.
The pitch-black miasma settled like fog, will-o’-the-wisps floating within it, and the bizarre stone tablet placed at the center of the study—it was a demon’s lair, no matter who looked at it.
Johan let out a small laugh and spoke.
“What’s with the sudden comment? You’re the last member here.”
“Can’t even deny it. Really, what a damned situation.”
“Someday, you’ll come to appreciate this fence around you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Know that even if you realize it later and apologize, I won’t accept it.”
“Listen to this mutt barking.”
As the pointless bickering continued, Illea sighed.
“Enough, let’s get to the point. Father, what about Shaferia? Why are you down here?”
Gaf had been tasked with monitoring Shaferia. For him to come looking for Johan at this hour meant he had something to report.
Gaf spoke.
“Shaferia is in contact with the Order’s Inquisitor.”
Johan’s expression twisted.
“What are you talking about?”
“Shaferia is a spy, handing over information about the Baron’s family to the Order.”
“For what reason?”
“It’s about suspicion regarding the knight Rail. It seems she saw Rail’s corpse on the day of the pilgrimage group’s ambush.”
Johan clicked his tongue.
‘I see how this is going.’
With Rail’s corpse suddenly discovered, the Order would have become suspicious. Why was a knight of the Baron’s family found dead at the site of the ambush? It was the perfect situation for them to grow suspicious.
‘What a nuisance.’
Of all things, the body had remained intact in the midst of the chaos. His luck was unbelievably bad.
Illea spoke up.
“I’m sorry. I should have found him first.”
Johan had instructed Gaf and Illea to search for Rail on the day of the ambush.
They had not found Rail that day.
It was natural.
In that vast and devastated area, it was close to impossible to find someone whose status was unknown.
Johan shook his head.
“It’s largely my mistake as well. In my rush, I didn’t pay attention to Rail.”
At the time when Shaferia attacked the Apostle, Johan had left the area with only Illea and Gaf.
It was an urgent situation, and there was no room to worry about Rail.
It was nothing but an excuse.
‘I should have anticipated it and prepared.’
This was a world where one misstep could send you straight to hell.
Even the smallest mistake was unacceptable.
He had to be strict with himself if he wanted to survive in this world.
As Johan reproached himself, Gaf spoke.
“Rather than arguing over fault, shouldn’t we focus on forming a plan? Now that the Order is suspicious, it won’t be easy to let this slide.”
The Great Saint Church was far more tenacious than one might imagine. When it came to demons and heresy, they showed fanatical obsession.
They would dig into even the smallest clues like mad.
Johan fell silent for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“They probably haven’t found any connection yet. Just Rail’s corpse alone wouldn’t be enough to let them suspect us as the ones behind it all.”
Illea nodded.
“The Order is likely keeping many possibilities open. They still haven’t found clear evidence regarding the pilgrimage group ambush and the Apostle’s appearance. They’re probably grasping at straws.”
They were probing everywhere, hoping to catch something.
“But we can’t be reassured. If the Order seriously digs, eventually they’ll catch our tail. Gaf is right, we need to prepare.”
“It’s a good thing we had Shaferia under surveillance. We’ve bought ourselves some time.”
Johan looked at Gaf.
“You did well. Good job.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
Gaf snorted, and Johan shrugged.
“Regardless, keep watching Shaferia from now on as well. If there’s nothing else, you can go rest.”
Gaf paused for a moment, then spoke.
“There is one more thing.”
“What is it?”
“The Inquisitor had the Cursed Scripture.”
“So what? That’s common.”
“……But the Cursed Scripture was emitting an ominous light. When it was opened, Shaferia’s expression contorted, and the Inquisitor hurriedly left. I’m not sure what it was about, but it seemed serious.”
The moment Gaf finished speaking, Johan and Illea exchanged glances.
“Johan, don’t tell me……”
“I’m thinking the same. We need to confirm the details.”
“I’ll try to get the Cursed Scripture first.”
“Can you manage it?”
To obtain the Cursed Scripture, they would first need to locate a heretic.
It was an extremely difficult task.
Even after the Order had spent centuries hunting down heretics, they had not been eradicated.
They had become masters of disguise.
It would be impossible to find them using ordinary means.
Illea spoke.
“Give me a few days. I’ll bring it to you.”
She looked confident.
‘Does she know a heretic?’
Probably not.
It was still too early for witches to contact them. At least, that was how it went in the original.
“I’ll trust you and wait.”
She would have a method of her own. Because it was a witch’s confidence, Johan could trust it.
As the two exchanged words, Gaf spoke.
“I can’t understand a single thing you’re talking about.”
Come to think of it, Gaf didn’t know that the original Cursed Scripture had reacted to Johan.
He didn’t even know that the stone tablet placed in the center of the study was the original Cursed Scripture.
Johan opened his mouth.
“You have the right to know.”
He had promised to share information.
Since they were working together, he needed to keep his word.
Johan began explaining what had happened moments earlier.
***
At dawn, Johan returned to his room.
During the day, his bedroom; during the night, the underground. Every day, he was traveling back and forth between the light and the darkness, living a busy life.
‘There’s no time to sleep.’
To be exact, he didn’t feel the need to get proper sleep.
It was because of his unique constitution.
While active as a demon, his human body rested, and vice versa when he was human.
‘Then what about my mind?’
While he had two bodies, he only had one soul.
Since he was always awake, he might eventually reach the limit of his mental strength.
Maybe it was just his imagination, but recently he had been feeling a heavy mental fatigue.
It seemed he needed rest.
Johan laid down on the bed.
As soon as he lay down, worries came to him instead of sleep.
‘Too many variables have appeared in just a few days.’
According to the original plan, he should now be thinking about ways to expand his influence over the kingdom.
He should have been in the phase of contacting Count of Staviana, who was behind Krill, making a deal with him, and stepping into the kingdom’s political world, but now his foot had been caught.
‘Was the pilgrimage group ambushed the problem?’
Looking back, the start of all these variables was from the moment he attacked the pilgrimage group.
The Apostle Beris’s curse, the Order’s suspicion of the Baron’s family, the original Cursed Scripture reacting to Johan—all of them stemmed from the pilgrimage group ambush.
‘Is Great Saint Marziel taking revenge on me?’
For tormenting his followers.
Johan let out a small laugh.
As if that could be true. The Great Saint Marziel was in no state to interfere with the world.
Even if, by some chance, it was his revenge, there was nothing Johan could do about it.
The pilgrimage group ambush had been a necessary act.
To swallow the kingdom, the Eye of the Great Saint was essential.
‘No regrets.’
Instead of wasting time regretting, it was more rational to think about how to utilize these variables.
If he was lucky, it could even develop into a better situation.
‘Think positively.’
Regarding Krill as well, since he had been made to look like a suicide, Count of Staviana would take the bait in some form.
As long as Johan skillfully hooked the Count as planned, it would be fine.
Though he now had to handle many things simultaneously, Johan was confident he could overcome them.
As he closed his eyes, he muttered.
“Don’t make mistakes, and don’t forget that my essence is human.”
The resolve he always reminded himself of helped stabilize his mind.
Drowsiness began to set in.
Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, a knock came.
‘Ha.’
He lazily lifted his upper body.
“Come in.”
The maid who entered had an urgent look on her face.
“M-my lord. The madam is urgently looking for you!”
“……Who?”
“Your mother has regained consciousness!”
Johan jumped up from his seat.
It seemed there would be no time for rest after all.
Sleep was a luxury in his fate.