Chapter 65. The Appearance of a Great Demon (2)
Click. Flicker. Click!
One of the electric lamps in the reliquary chamber kept flickering as though it were about to go out. Every time the light flickered, it produced a faint buzzing sound, filling the entire room with a strange sense of tension.
Michael, who had been asked a question, and Jungon, who had asked it, silently stared at each other. Neither spoke.
He wants me to tell him what I know...
Jungon wasn't asking for information specifically about Marbas. If that had been what he wanted, he would've asked Michael what he knew about Marbas rather than making such a broad request.
Considering Jungon's usual personality, he would've made a demand rather than asking for a favor. The fact that he was behaving so humbly was suspicious too.
"Father Jungon, I've brought him."
It was the aide who finally broke the silence between them.
"Let him in."
Following Jungon's instructions, the aide brought in a priest wearing a dust-covered cassock.
Is he frightened?
The priest had exhausted eyes and hollow cheeks. He was so terrified that he kept shrinking back and nervously looking around his surroundings.
"This is Father Bernardo, Matsumoto Masao, who has come from Japan. He is also the only survivor of the terrible plague."
Saint Bernardo had possessed deep devotion to the Virgin Mary and had chosen her as his patron. He had been known as a warrior who could stand against evil with the Virgin Mary's protection. For that reason, the baptismal name Bernardo was often associated with a brave and steadfast warrior.
"I, is this place safe?"
So what was this priest trembling in front of Michael supposed to be? Although the priest was Japanese, his Korean was surprisingly fluent. However, the way he repeatedly looked around with his mouth hanging open and his eyes widened suggested that he had suffered severe psychological trauma.
"Ahem. Since you've come from Japan, I assume you're here to tell us about Marbas?"
Chief Nam, who had been wiping his sweat with a handkerchief, cautiously asked the question.
"Eek! M, Marbas!!"
THUD!
Nobody had even touched Matsumoto, yet he screamed in terror and fell backward onto his bottom. Jungon frowned and pressed a hand against his forehead at the pathetic sight.
"That was the original plan, but he's clearly in no condition to do so."
"He must've suffered a terrible shock..."
"Does everyone end up like that after encountering a Great Demon?"
While the others looked at the fallen Matsumoto with sympathy, Michael was thinking something entirely different.
This pathetic guy survived Marbas?
The aura Michael sensed from Matsumoto was unimpressive. It was weaker than that of an ordinary priest. There was no way he could have survived Marbas's plague.
Did he deliberately let him go?
But why? Michael couldn't sense any traces of the plague or demonic energy controlling the priest. Even if Marbas had sent him as some kind of warning, there should have been a clear purpose behind it.
A diversion?
That was a reasonable possibility. Marbas could be using the terrified priest to attract attention while preparing for the White Horseman's descent somewhere else. In that case, the real target of the operation would probably be Michael.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind."
Jungon interrupted Michael's thoughts as he held his chin between his thumb and index finger. The Japanese priest was no longer present, apparently having been sent away.
"They seemed uncomfortable, so I sent everyone out."
Just as Jungon said, Sia and Chief Nam were gone too. That showed how important he considered this favor.
"Well? Have you given it some thought?"
"You mean that request you made without even specifying what you're asking about?"
Thud!
Michael stretched out his legs and rested them on the back of the pew in front of him before snorting.
"Then let me ask you instead. What do you want to know? Marbas's abilities? Or his weaknesses?"
Jungon shook his head. He seemed about to say something else but hesitated. His hands were trembling slightly, and he looked as though he could use something to calm his nerves.
After taking a moment to settle his emotions, Jungon finally opened his mouth again.
"Those things would be useful too. But what I want to know goes beyond that."
Beyond Marbas? Michael tilted his head, unable to understand the question.
"What is the relationship between you, a man called an Apostle, and the Great Demons?"
Michael's smooth forehead immediately wrinkled with anger. He couldn't imagine a more insulting question.
"...What exactly do you mean by that? Choose your next words carefully. Depending on your intentions, I might smash your head open."
Michael reached behind his back and placed his hand on Durandal's hilt, glaring at Jungon with cold, threatening eyes.
"Calm down. I'm obviously not suggesting you have a friendly relationship with them."
There he goes, acting humble again.
Jungon raised his palm in a calming gesture and explained himself. Once Michael removed his hand from the sword, Jungon continued.
"Father Matsumoto brought a video with him when he arrived."
"A video?"
Michael remembered the social media content he had watched with Sia before. It was a mysterious function that could reproduce events exactly as they had happened.
Jungon took out his phone and played the video.
"You call this a disease...?"
Japanese could be heard from the phone. Michael wasn't particularly concerned about the language because Helena's Blessing activated and interpreted the words into a language he could understand.
"Right? I've never seen a disease like this either."
"It's like the Black Death has returned..."
"It might be even worse than the Black Death. Let's just focus on the quarantine measures."
In the video, people wearing masks were placing corpses on stretchers and carrying them somewhere. Every corpse caught on camera had discolored skin. Michael had already encountered this Authority in the past.
"That's Marbas's plague."
The symptoms differed from corpse to corpse. Some had rolled their eyes back after vomiting blood, while another corpse leaning against a wall had a cracked skull. The necrotic skin of several corpses shown later was slowly melting, almost as though they had been exposed to radiation.
Every one of them had apparently screamed in pain until the moment of death. Their mouths remained half-open, and their eyes had never been closed.
"This footage was taken in Chiba Prefecture, Japan. As you can see, it's a location affected by the plague."
Click.
Having shown everything he needed to show, Jungon put away his phone. For a brief moment, Michael noticed that Jungon's hand was trembling as he did so.
"That's all the footage we have. Unfortunately, Marbas himself wasn't recorded."
"So why did you show me this?"
Jungon gave a bitter smile.
"Because I simply couldn't think of a way to deal with it."
Michael understood that feeling well. What could anyone possibly do against a being whose mere existence brought disaster?
"It's not like I have some perfect solution either. When fighting Marbas, you have to be prepared to accept a certain number of casualties from the beginning."
Besides, Michael wasn't particularly fond of most humans, so he had even less reason to protect them. All he really needed to do was protect Sia, Helena's reincarnation.
"I see..."
Jungon lowered his eyes once again, revealing an unusually vulnerable side of himself. The weakness he kept displaying, which didn't suit him at all, was beginning to irritate Michael.
"If you're afraid, stay out of it. Even if none of you help me, I'll deal with Marbas myself."
"Is that another ability of an Apostle? I can't hide anything from you. Hoho."
There had to be a reason Jungon's emotions were so obvious. Now that Michael had already noticed, Jungon seemed to have given up on hiding them and asked his next question directly.
"When do you think these terrible invasions by Great Demons will finally end?"
For a moment, Michael was completely speechless. Jungon wasn't afraid of Marbas himself. He had vaguely realized that the Omen was approaching, and he was afraid of the countless lives that would be lost because of it.
Michael still didn't completely trust Jungon, so he answered with silence. Even if Jungon learned about the Omen, nothing would change. If anything, that knowledge would only fill him with negative emotions.
"...I've been a priest for about twenty-five years. I've encountered all kinds of demons, but the first Great Demon I ever faced was at the Golden Bull Monastery. That's how rare they are."
Michael remained silent. However, Jungon had become convinced that Michael was somehow connected to the recent appearances of Great Demons, so he continued speaking in an attempt to draw out an answer. Perhaps he simply wanted to express the frustration he had been keeping inside.
"But from a certain point onward, Great Demons began appearing one after another."
Jungon stood in front of the altar, directly beneath a white electric lamp. As he looked back over the events, the light above his head cast a shadow over his eyes, making them appear even darker.
"So I tried analyzing the situation in my own way. The conclusion I reached... seemed rather obvious once I thought about it."
Jungon, who had been walking near Michael, stopped and quietly stared at him. There was no anger or accusation in his composed gaze. It held only one sincere question.
"And that is..."
Jungon folded his thick arms and stroked his rough chin.
"Michael, it all began when you, the man they call an Apostle, awakened from that coffin."
Michael was secretly surprised. Jungon had come remarkably close to the truth.
More precisely, Great Demons began appearing whenever the Omen approached. Michael had simply happened to awaken around the same time that the Omen was drawing near.
"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. But as a priest who wants to save as many people as possible, and as a father who must protect his child, I want to understand. What exactly is happening to this world?"
In Jungon's eyes, which repeatedly shifted between clarity and uncertainty, Michael saw two different things. One was the gaze of a devout priest who wanted to save people more than anyone else. The other was the hollow gaze of a frightened man who wanted to abandon everything and run away.
He probably thinks there's no end to this.
Powerful Great Demons that ordinary people had no hope of defeating were appearing one after another, with no indication of when they would stop. Anyone other than Michael would fall into despair. That was especially true for someone who had many things to protect.
This guy has been going through quite a lot too.
With John absent, Jungon was the one responsible for leading the priests. Whether someone was the leader of a group or the head of a family, they had to act as though everything was fine and pretend to be strong even when they weren't. They always had to be the support everyone else depended on.
But just because they endured the burden didn't mean they were free from fear. They were simply doing everything they could to keep their organizations from falling apart.
It was the desperate struggle of people who wanted to protect something, even if doing so meant sacrificing themselves.
You've barely lived a hundred years. Who do you think you're trying to act so tough in front of?
No matter how old Jungon might be by human standards, he was still just a child in the eyes of Michael, who had lived for an incredibly long time. Even though Michael generally disliked humans, he didn't dislike seeing someone so young struggle to protect those around him.
"Everything I'm about to tell you must stay inside your head."
At Michael's change in attitude, some of the dark clouds hanging over Jungon seemed to disappear.
"Now, where should I begin? Hmm, that should work. First of all... Kneel, you little brat."
Jungon's eyes trembled at Michael's sudden change in attitude.
The orange-red sunset gradually faded from the vast sky. As the heavens slowly turned dark blue, the stars and moon, which should have appeared faint, seemed unusually bright tonight.
In a quiet family home somewhere in downtown Seoul, an entire family with blackened skin lay dead, each with their own hands wrapped around their throat. The house, having lost its owners, had welcomed a new master.
In the living room, where the curtains had been drawn, an unwatched television illuminated the darkness. Its light fell upon a man sitting indifferently on the sofa. On both sides of him, subordinates concealed in the shadows bowed their heads.
The man had unusual hair that mixed black and purple. He possessed a handsome, refined appearance, but his eyes looked permanently exhausted. Even though he had no dark circles beneath them, his expression made it seem as if he did.
Marbas was still wearing the long coat Nergal had given him. He looked down at his subordinates with complete indifference.
Starting from the front on his left, they were Insect, Radiation, Cell, Personality, and Infection. They were all high-ranking demons who had received a portion of Marbas's Authority. In other words, they were his kin.
As the sound of the television gradually faded into the background, Marbas spoke in a limp, lifeless voice, like a balloon that had lost its air.
"That bat Raum has been taken away."
Raum had originally belonged to Wrath's faction, but had switched to Sloth's faction while constantly changing sides. Since he had been involved with four of the seven factions, some demons referred to him as a bat.
"Forneus, the Son of the Sea, was killed and returned to Hell. And Foras, the Keeper of the Forest, has disappeared for some reason."
Marbas was now the only remaining vassal. However, there was no sign of worry or pressure on his face. He looked as though he simply considered everything in existence insignificant and boring.
"Infection. What about the children?"
The demon called Infection raised his head.
"We've positioned them at the location where the operation will take place. As soon as you give the order, they'll be able to begin."
Marbas nodded and turned his gaze toward the demon standing at the very front on his left.
"Insect."
The demon called Insect raised his head in response to Marbas's call.
"Brrrrp. Brrrrp."
"It's time to use the puppets."
"Brrrrp!"
Insect lowered his head deeply, indicating that he would carry out the order. Although he couldn't speak in a proper language, Marbas could understand his intentions through the connection established by their Authorities, so communicating wasn't a problem.
Click.
The television switched off, and darkness gradually filled the room as the remaining sunset faded away.
"...The time has come. As soon as we obtain the seedling, prepare the ritual for the White Horseman's descent."
