Scribe of the Cursed Scripture (2)
Scribe of the Cursed Scripture (2)
After leaving the lord’s castle, Johan rode his horse all day. After sunset, he flew until he was on the brink of collapse.
Thanks to this grueling effort, he achieved his goal.
He had completely escaped the Miyatro Territory.
‘This should be far enough.’
He had no strength left to move any further.
He needed rest.
Johan set up camp somewhere in the southwest, at the ruins of a desolate castle.
Leaning against a half-destroyed stone pillar, he unfolded his map.
‘I came pretty far.’
He had traveled several hundred kilometers from the lord’s castle.
He almost tried to pinpoint his exact location but gave up. It just seemed ridiculous to scrutinize a piece of paper in the body of a shadowy demon.
Letting out a long sigh, he looked up at the night sky.
“Only the view’s nice.”
Stars glittered across the vast night sky, like scattered jewels on black parchment.
It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight, but Johan felt no emotion.
He preferred the hazy skies devoid of starlight. He missed the days when he’d mistaken artificial debris drifting through space for stars.
He wanted to go home.
A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
Here he was, needing to prepare for Kaiaze—and yet he was indulging in such fragile thoughts. Clearly, he was mentally worn out.
He hadn’t slept properly since the possession began, so it was only natural.
After wrapping this matter up, Johan decided he’d rest at least for a day.
Just as he allowed himself that brief moment of release.
The ground trembled several times.
The stars in the night sky began to twitch.
The heavens and earth shook as if they were struggling to contain something monstrous.
Johan shot up, his upper body snapping upright.
His crimson eyes focused on the edge of the horizon.
He spotted a small dot in the distance.
“Already……”
By the time he realized it, it was slightly too late.
The overwhelming presence was already right in front of him.
Only then did the shockwave arrive.
The remaining pillars and rubble of the ruins were blown apart in all directions.
Johan was flung through the air and crashed into the castle wall.
Black blood burst from his mouth.
“Kh… Haaah.”
His body slid down the wall and hit the ground with a dull thud.
At the same time, a deep voice boomed like a beast’s roar.
“I have come to meet the Thirteenth End. Announce yourself.”
Before Johan stood a colossal demon beast.
Its enormous mass blocked out the sky, its wings curled around the horizon.
Its shaggy black mane fluttered as if alive.
Its blood-red eyes glinted with a sinister light.
A monstrous great demon with the body of a black lion and the wings of an eagle—this was Kaiaze, the Scribe of the Cursed Scripture.
His overwhelming presence crushed the world around him.
Even Johan groaned under the pressure.
‘……Worse than Beris.’
A fragmented apostle like Beris couldn’t compare to this great demon.
According to the original story, demons ranked in the double digits of the underworld hierarchy possessed a fundamentally different presence—and that description had not been an exaggeration.
As Johan grimaced under the crushing weight, Kaiaze stomped once.
The earth shook violently, as if about to break apart.
“Imp, do you not hear me?”
Johan didn’t bother correcting him.
To Kaiaze, an imp or a young demon made no difference.
Annoyed by Johan’s silence, Kaiaze let out a thunderous roar.
Johan felt like his eardrums would burst.
He took a deep breath.
‘If he looks down on me, it’s over.’
Kaiaze was a demon who prioritized strength and violence above all. The moment he saw you as weak, even an apostle would be nothing more than prey.
Even if it was just an act, Johan had to present a formidable front.
And he had a good model to mimic.
Apostle Beris. The way he treated lesser beings flashed through Johan’s mind.
‘Be as arrogant as possible. Overflow with confidence.’
Though that arrogance had ultimately led to Beris’s downfall, this was exactly the kind of attitude Johan needed now.
He looked directly into Kaiaze’s eyes.
Suppressing the pressure, he barely managed to speak.
“……Insolent wretch. How dare you bare that filthy maw before my seat?”
Silence immediately followed.
Kaiaze stared at Johan without a word.
A tense exchange of gazes ensued.
Johan felt the urge to squirm all over, but he didn’t move a muscle.
The first to speak or act would lose.
At least, that’s how Johan saw it.
A long moment passed.
Kaiaze moved first.
He began scratching the ground with his front paw.
A bizarre act.
‘Is he drawing a Heretic Array?’
Maybe he was preparing a curse.
Tense but unmoving, Johan maintained a relaxed expression and stared at Kaiaze.
After a while, Kaiaze stepped back.
Letters had been etched into the ground.
Upon reading them, Johan let out a short laugh.
─ Permit speech.
His act had worked.
Kaiaze no longer dared to speak without restraint.
He was showing a measure of respect toward the apostle.
But it wasn’t quite enough.
‘Permit speech? Sounds a bit like a command.’
The tone felt slightly coercive.
Johan scowled.
“Insolent. Fix your gaze first.”
Kaiaze had been looking down at him. It couldn’t be helped given the size difference, but as someone pretending to be a haughty apostle, Johan couldn’t allow it.
‘Beris would’ve been insulted by this.’
Kaiaze growled lowly, the sound like bubbling magma.
He was clearly displeased.
Johan spoke.
“You may possess intellect, but in the end, you’re still just a beast. How disappointing.”
Grrk. Grrk.
The sound of grinding teeth echoed.
Clicking his tongue, Johan turned away.
At the same time, Kaiaze’s massive form slowly sank.
His enormous wings drooped to the ground, and his belly met the earth.
A monstrous beast the size of a fortress now lay prostrate before Johan.
The size difference still remained, but it was acceptable.
Johan spoke.
“From top to bottom, you’re a mess. I don’t even feel like correcting you. Let’s skip to the point and be done with it.”
Kaiaze’s blood-red eyes flickered with wounded pride. He couldn’t acknowledge such a young apostle who lacked proper dignity.
He didn’t want to lower his head.
As a great demon who had existed for a thousand years, he wanted to show the imp before him the difference in class.
Yet he hesitated to act.
Because of Johan’s attitude.
Confidence bordering on arrogance, an unfathomable calm, eyes that viewed Kaiaze as a lesser being—all of it mirrored the atmosphere of the other Twelve Apostles.
Kaiaze’s eyes scanned Johan’s entire body.
A deeply irreverent gaze.
Johan hesitated.
‘Should I call him out?’
Based on the stance he’d taken, it would be appropriate to flare up.
No apostle would tolerate that kind of gaze from Kaiaze.
But Johan wasn’t an apostle. Not exactly. He didn’t fully internalize that identity.
He was an actor, after all—so he had to think carefully even about the smallest gesture.
‘If I push too far, he might snap.’
With that thought, Johan clicked his tongue.
When an actor failed to fully embody the role, the audience would realize it was all just a performance.
For Johan, the most critical condition was: Don’t let anyone see through your true nature.
Just as he had acted like a demon since the possession, now he would act like an apostle.
Hasn't he done well so far? Hiding his weakness, concealing his identity, pretending to be a real demon.
From now on, he would do the same—like an apostle.
“You’re ill-mannered.”
Johan swung his arm. Long red claws slashed across Kaiaze’s eyes.
There wasn’t even a scratch.
Kaiaze growled lowly, casting his gaze downward.
“If you have no business, begone.”
As soon as Johan said this, Kaiaze slowly raised his upper body.
Standing on all fours, the beast now blotted out the sky.
‘Is he planning to attack?’
Johan tensed up. He had no way to resist.
Even if he used the relics he brought from the Forbidden Archive, all he could manage would be a brief window to escape.
‘I didn’t have enough time to prepare.’
This encounter had not been part of the plan. Johan had to rely entirely on instinct and reflex to survive it.
Just as he reached for his backpack to retrieve a relic, Kaiaze spoke.
“I have something to deliver.”
He raised both forepaws into the air.
A strange scene followed.
Kaiaze tore the night sky like a sheet of paper.
A scarlet rift spread across the air like a wound.
Johan inwardly sighed in relief.
‘I made it through.’
From within the rift, a glass panel the size of a human slowly descended.
Kaiaze spoke.
“Cursed Scripture Chapter 13: The Book of Deceit and Chaos.”
The rectangular glass panel landed upright before Johan.
Black letters were inscribed on its transparent surface.
─ Raise your head, O Evil of Evils, and sing the Thirteenth End.
Several other phrases were also written, but Johan’s gaze didn’t linger on the text.
‘A mirror?’
The glass reflected his image.
The demon was gone.
Only a young boy stood in its place.
‘……It’s night. Why now?’
It was supposed to reflect his demonic form at this hour.
Johan pondered briefly, then asked,
“Why is it in this form?”
The question held two meanings:
First, why was the cursed scripture in the form of a mirror?
Second, why did the mirror reflect his human form?
Kaiaze responded.
“The Cursed Scripture takes the form that represents the apostle’s identity. Think carefully about the purpose of a mirror.”
Johan stared at the scripture.
‘A tool that reflects oneself.’
That was all that came to mind.
His expression darkened as he asked,
“Do you see the image in this mirror too?”
If Kaiaze could see his human form, that would be a serious problem.
“The original scripture can only be touched by the apostle. As its scribe, I only record your sins—I cannot directly interact with the scripture.”
Kaiaze flapped his wings a few times.
A single black feather drifted down and began to transform into the shape of a tiny fairy.
“This is your chronicler. It will record your sins in my place.”
Johan was already familiar with this concept.
A lesser demon that chronicled an apostle’s life. As it wrote into the original scripture, all the copies across the world would be updated simultaneously.
In other words, anyone with a copy of the Cursed Scripture would know the apostle’s deeds.
Johan clicked his tongue.
“My actions will be exposed to the whole world.”
“Every phrase will pass through your approval. Nothing will be recorded against your will.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“My business is concluded.”
Kaiaze spread his massive wings.
The horizon was swallowed in shadow.
He rose slowly, speaking as he did.
“Remember this one thing. You must not let them steal the scripture.”
“Them?”
Kaiaze looked toward a distant mountain.
“Vermin have gathered.”
Then, he launched into the air.
A windstorm roared in his wake.
The massive beast filled the entire night sky.
From high above, Kaiaze spoke.
“Commit worthy sins and gain power. The Evil of Evils does not yet recognize you.”
With a thunderous roar, he vanished into the rifted air. The space behind him shredded and split apart.
A booming shout followed.
“Cut off the retreat first!”
“Surround him!”
White light spread beneath Johan’s feet.
Sacred calculations began to trace themselves.
It was a Sacred Incantation Array—an anti-demon binding ritual.
The Order had arrived.
Priests began to appear, one after another.
Each of them was shrouded in holy white light.
One tense priest looked at Johan and murmured.
“Is that… could it be…”
“Wh-White Horn!”
The adolescent demon with white horns. The one rumored to have treated Apostle Beris like a dog.
The Order had designated him as ‘White Horn’ and assembled a special investigation unit.
“Don’t get close!”
“Buy time!”
They needed to restrain him before the main force arrived.
Johan let out a deep sigh.
‘One mountain after another.’
He grabbed the scripture and took to the skies in an instant.
At the same time, countless chains surged toward him.
Holy magic shot from the ritual circle.
“Catch him!”
“Don’t let him escape!”
It looked like getting away wouldn’t be so easy.