Count’s Territory (9)
Count’s Territory (9)
Eriyan’s skull shattered before the Count’s eyes.
Fragments scattered. White bone dust drifted through the air.
To the Count, the entire scene passed in slow motion.
He could not accept it as reality.
He froze like a statue.
Time inside the chamber stopped.
No one spoke. Nothing moved.
Only after a long silence did the Count’s lips part.
“…Eriyan?”
He staggered forward and stood before the Heavenly Womb.
Inside the coffin, the crushed remains lay.
The Count collapsed to his knees.
“No, it isn’t too late.”
He began desperately gathering the shattered remains.
Scooping up bone dust, picking up fragments piece by piece from the floor.
Resurrection was still possible, even with some damage.
So long as nothing essential was missing.
He worked frantically to recover the remains.
Illea looked on with pity.
“That’s against the rules. You made a mistake—pay the price properly.”
The tip of her finger flared crimson.
She pressed it against Eriyan’s bones.
Ssshhhhh—!
The white skeleton instantly turned scarlet, glowing red-hot like iron thrust into flame.
The Count’s pupils widened.
“N–no! Stop!”
At once, the skeleton exploded.
Fragments burst in all directions.
Pieces on the ground turned black.
Some melted away into nothing. Smoke rose here and there.
The Count stared blankly into the coffin.
Eriyan was gone without a trace.
It was empty.
Johan spoke.
“Do not resent me. It was your recklessness that killed her.”
The Count had ignored his warnings, pressing the contest of wills.
Her death was the price.
Life faded from his eyes. They lost their focus.
He stared vacantly at the Heavenly Womb.
“What was I living for…”
He had loved his wife more than his own life.
For her, he would have sacrificed anything.
Power, influence—he had built it all for her.
To gain the means to bring her back.
Now, the goal had been within reach.
So close—and the path was suddenly severed.
Never again could he reach his destination.
His life was denied.
A crushing emptiness overwhelmed him.
The Count clutched his head, writhing.
No scream escaped. His wail was muffled, as though underwater.
“Hhh… hhhuuuhhhk.”
He convulsed without end.
Bashing his head against the floor, clawing madly at the Heavenly Womb with his nails.
The sight of a man collapsing was wretched indeed.
Johan spoke.
“Cromwell, how long will you chain yourself to a woman? You still have much left to protect.”
His power, his house, his wealth, his honor—values not so easily cast aside.
The Count slowly lifted his head, meeting Johan’s gaze.
His eyes were black as a demon’s. Blood-tears streamed ceaselessly down his face.
“…What did you say?”
“Your life isn’t over yet. Protect what remains. Let’s resume our conversation.”
His despair at Eriyan’s loss twisted into fury toward Johan.
Struggling, the Count rose to his feet.
He staggered as he spoke.
“I have no reason left to live.”
Suddenly, he tore the pendant from his neck.
Illea’s eyes narrowed with a faint alarm.
“Johan, step back.”
The pendant shone ominously.
The Count said,
“I will join her. And you will come with me, as companions to the underworld.”
At once, the pendant burned black.
Grotesque patterns spread across the pale floor.
The hidden ritual revealed itself.
Its reach expanded rapidly.
In moments it blanketed the entire third floor of the Dead Shadow, spreading to the second, then the first.
Distant screams rang out.
“S–summoning!”
“Run!”
The cultists of the Hyungshin Society panicked.
Johan’s face twisted.
“Cromwell, what have you done?”
The Count’s lips warped.
Through blood-tears, he laughed.
“The whole city shall be sacrificed to the underworld. Your flesh and blood too will be offered to Saehel.”
Saehel—a high demon of the underworld, ranked in the double digits.
A being of pure evil. The Count meant to bring calamity.
Johan said,
“Your family, your house—they’ll all be sacrificed as well.”
The Count’s expression brimmed with madness.
“Do you think I care?”
He was already insane. No words could reach him.
Johan clicked his tongue.
“Illea, can you stop the ritual?”
She shook her head.
“It was completed before it began. There’s no stopping it now.”
“Then escape is our only option.”
“I’ve prepared for that. Let’s go.”
Above Illea’s head, a vast and intricate magic circle glowed.
It had to be a spell of the highest tier.
The Count spat blood as he shouted.
“You won’t escape! You’ll fall into hell with me!”
Johan’s face was impassive.
“Cromwell, pitiful fool. You’ve kicked away fortune with your own foot. In the next life, may you be born wiser.”
The spell engulfed Johan and Illea.
Their forms dissolved into blue radiance and vanished.
The Count convulsed.
“Saehel! Descend quickly! Kill them!”
The ritual vomited forth black radiance.
Darkness swallowed the Dead Shadow whole.
***
The city of Beldana held well over one hundred thousand people.
Counting travelers, nearly two hundred thousand resided there at any time.
All of them screamed.
The city was thrown into madness.
Black hands surged from below.
Grotesque limbs seized people, dragging them into hell.
Treasures, relics, gold and silver, lives—all were offered to the underworld.
No one could stop the ritual.
The great demon descended into the present world.
Waaaaaahhhhhh────!
A baby’s cry thundered through the air.
The empty city darkened beneath shadow.
Above Beldana, a colossal being appeared.
A human-shaped infant. A demon of pure evil. Its smile was innocent, yet bizarrely cruel. From its six nipples sprouted thrashing tentacles.
Its sagging genitals spewed black fluid.
Each time it cried, nature itself screamed.
Trees withered, rivers rotted.
All life perished.
A mad voice resounded.
“Saehel! Find them!”
From the infant’s vast crown, the Count’s face jutted out.
He darted his gaze, searching for Johan and Illea.
But they were nowhere to be seen.
“Rats! Where are you hiding?!”
Saehel began to move.
Everywhere it passed, death followed.
Villages and castles rotted and collapsed.
The city was annihilated.
Countless subjugation forces were organized, but nearly all were destroyed.
The kingdom’s lands were laid to waste.
Only when the Empire and the Sacred Nation joined forces was Saehel’s march finally halted.
***
“Blasphemer Cromwell Staviana. You secretly performed a forbidden ritual, summoning Saehel, and thereby defied both divine law and heavenly mandate. Your crime is judged as among the Seven Deadly Sins. The Order hereby pronounces your sentence as follows.”
The Sacred Nation’s Great Church. The death sentence was being read.
A great crowd had gathered to watch the Count upon the scaffold.
The venerable noble was gone. In his place stood a withered wretch, staring emptily at the sky.
“One: Cromwell is stripped of his noble name. Two: the name Staviana is erased from the kingdom’s rolls, its record sealed as heresy. Three: the blood of Staviana, deemed the source of blasphemy and corruption, is condemned—his kin all shall be executed. Four: the sentence shall be carried out by burning, the flames erasing even the stain of evil.”
As the reading ended, the executioners approached.
The judge asked the Count,
“Cromwell, have you any last words?”
He murmured with a dazed face.
“…Eriyan, I am coming to you soon.”
The judge frowned.
“Carry out the sentence!”
The executioners lit the pyre.
Flames engulfed him.
Even as he burned, the Count smiled.
“At last, I shall see you again.”
Just as he closed his eyes, a radiant light poured from the heavens.
He stared at it, entranced.
“C–could it be…”
From within the brilliance, a figure descended.
A golden-haired woman, wings spread wide.
“Eriyan!”
It was his wife.
The angel cradled him tenderly.
“My love, I wished to see you again in this world.”
The Count wept.
“Forgive me. I was weak, inadequate. In the end, I could not protect you.”
“Don’t blame yourself. You can still do better.”
He lowered his head.
“It’s over. I am a failure.”
The angel stroked his hair.
“What if there was one more chance?”
“What do you mean…?”
She pointed toward the crowd.
He turned his eyes.
A boy stood there, hand extended to him.
The angel said,
“Take his hand. I’ll grant you a final chance.”
The Count slowly raised his arm.
The boy’s lips curved into a long smile.
He spoke.
“Let’s do better this time, Cromwell Staviana.”
At once, the Count’s vision shattered like glass.
***
In the ashen chamber, retching echoed.
The Count lay on the floor, vomiting.
He could hardly cling to sanity. His mind was ravaged.
Summoning his last strength, he forced himself upright.
The chamber was empty.
Only the Heavenly Womb remained.
He rushed toward it.
His eyes widened.
Eriyan was gone. Only a letter lay there.
He snatched it up.
Stamped with the crescent seal of the Miyatro family.
With trembling hands, he opened it.
───Cromwell Staviana, this time I invite you. Come to Miyatro’s domain.
ps. I am keeping Eriyan with me for now. She is safe.
Another paper fluttered out.
Eriyan’s portrait.
He quickly checked his neck.
The pendant was gone.
Taken by Johan.
The Count stared at the letter in silence.
“…Johan Miyatro.”
What was he? Who could be so ruthless, so bold?
It truly felt like being toyed with by a demon.
And yet, part of him felt relief.
His life was not over.