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About ten minutes later, Lucia, who had briefly stepped out, brought a priest into the room. It was Archbishop Theodosius, who was residing at the Cathedral of Saint Basil.

The elderly priest, once a student of Lucia and now a revered religious figure, examined the wounds on my body with keen interest.

“Hmm….”

Archbishop Theodosius spoke with a rather serious expression.

“It’s not even been a day since the injury occurred, but the surrounding skin is already necrotic. This resembles what the Inquisition Officers experience.”

Lucia, stepping back to observe the situation, looked at the archbishop with concern.

“Given what I’ve heard, I can guess where this is headed. What do you think, Archbishop?”

“Since you haven’t been careless in your studies, if you still remember the content, your assumptions are likely correct.”

A faint sigh, almost a gasp, escaped Lucia’s lips. Archbishop Theodosius delivered his diagnosis in a grave tone.

“This is a matter involving a demon.”

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Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician of All Time

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Inside a room in the Cathedral of Saint Basil. Three people gathered in a secluded corner, away from the eyes of both believers and clergy.

Archbishop Theodosius, who oversaw the gathering, Lucia, on the verge of canonization, and lastly, me.

As Lucia cared for my decaying wounds with a clean cloth dipped in holy water, she explained the circumstances.

“Based on the characteristics and circumstances shared by the Inquisitor, I’ve compiled the situation for Archbishop Theodosius.”

The stench of death emanating from a living person,

Strong incense to mask the odor,

Sensitive to the faintest trace of divinity,

Withstanding attacks from Inquisition Officers without a scratch,

And possessing the strength to kill an Inquisition Officer in one blow, etc.

Lucia, having synthesized various details, arrived at this conclusion.

“I conclude that a demon is involved.”

“…….”

Lucia, while examining the wounds, turned to face Archbishop Theodosius.

“You mentioned feeling a strong stench upon opening your mouth, which leads me to think it’s highly likely a possessed person. What do you think, Archbishop?”

“The smell of rotting flesh is indeed characteristic of the possessed, so it’s not an exaggeration….”

The archbishop closed his eyes briefly and nodded quietly.

“However, it’s also true that there are some inconsistencies to consider. Perhaps… that person is not a possessed individual but a necromancer.”

Lucia and Archbishop Theodosius engaged in a serious discussion, their expressions quite grave.

Lucia, who always wore a smile, occasionally frowned during their exchange, while Archbishop Theodosius, who was typically jovial, maintained a stoic expression.

“If it were a necromancer, the Inquisition Officers wouldn’t have been so thoroughly bested, Archbishop.”

“If the magician has been consumed by a demon, the possibility is certainly there. Even exorcists sometimes witness such phenomena, Saint.”

“Is that so….”

The two continued their serious conversation, while I, not fully grasping the context, merely listened.

Finally, lying on the bed in just my pants, I weakly interjected into their conversation.

“Excuse me, what in the world are you talking about? What does a demon have to do with this, and why is a necromancer being mentioned?”

Lucia, wiping my wounds with the cloth, took the opportunity to speak.

“As I mentioned earlier, considering the characteristics of the Inquisitor and the circumstances, it appears a demon is involved in this incident.”

“Sure, I get that, but how specifically….”

“Oh, that part….”

Lucia calmly laid out the evidence that suggested the involvement of demons:

First, the smell.

“It’s a characteristic of those possessed by demons to emit a rotten odor akin to that of a corpse. The cult calls such individuals ‘possessed persons.’ Given that it’s winter, one might not notice it outdoors, but inside, they couldn’t mask the stench, so they likely burned strong incense as a temporary measure to conceal it.”

Second, sensitivity.

“Possessed individuals are generally highly reactive to sacred items. They respond not only to religious symbols like crosses and holy images but also to objects resembling them. Therefore, they would have detected the weak divinity contained in the amulet.”

Third, strength.

“Finally, considering that you survived attacks from the Inquisition Officers without sustaining serious injuries and then managed to kill them in that condition, the Inquisitor you mentioned likely had a high probability of being possessed by a demon.”

Lucia added a vague disclaimer, trailing off her explanation.

“Of course, this is still hypothetical; I don’t have confirmed evidence….”

“…….”

“Causing wounds to rot and exerting intangible force to prevent someone from fleeing are qualities often associated with demons or necromancer types of dark magic.”

Demons, possessed persons, necromancers. All these terms felt foreign to me.

The idea of possession by demons or being possessed was, to be frank, an absurd tale I couldn’t relate to as I didn’t even believe in religion. Although I had heard of necromancers a few times while working as an advisor for the Counterintelligence Department, that was about it.

Nonetheless, thoughts of demons and necromancers felt too convoluted to ponder at the moment.

The wound on my torso was not only rotting but also causing an immense amount of pain. Caught in a state of limbo, I could hardly manage to breathe as I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Upon opening my eyes, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a tidal wave of information.

Amidst the chaotic turmoil, Archbishop Theodosius, who had been keenly observing my wounds since he entered the room, took the lead in organizing the situation.

“The wounds are not healing at all. The power of that Inquisitor seems to be stronger than I imagined. I need to inform His Holiness the Pope, Inquisition Director Petrus, and Saint Veronica about this. It’s a matter of urgency, so I will do it myself.”

“Will you really?”

“Isn’t it my responsibility?”

“Thank you, Archbishop.”

Lucia bowed to Archbishop Theodosius. Although she held the status of a saint, it was not customary for her to bow to him, but they had met as teacher and disciple in the theology college, so it seemed like an exception this time.

After politely acknowledging Lucia, the Archbishop stood up and addressed her.

“During this time, you must take care of your brother. Given the current state, this individual cannot be entrusted to just any priest for healing.”

Archbishop Theodosius continued with a calm tone.

“If the wounds are indeed inflicted by a demon or a necromancer, it will be difficult to recover with the sanctity or holy water of an ordinary priest. The current situation, with the flesh beginning to necrose, justifies that conclusion.”

Lucia asked, her face displaying despondence.

“Is there no method at all?”

“I can’t say for certain. I need to search among the relics kept by the cult to see if there’s anything capable of healing wounds inflicted by a demon… but one thing is clear: with your divine power, Lucia, while complete recovery may not be possible, you can at least prevent the wounds from worsening.”

“….”

“It will take two days, Saint. The remains of the Inquisition Officers will take two days to be retrieved and examined. Once that time has passed, the National Affairs Council will send the necessary items for your brother’s recovery.”

“…Understood.”

With that, the Archbishop made the sign of the cross and exited the room.

*

As the Archbishop mentioned, he sent a message to the cult before dawn broke. He relayed a brief report regarding the incident in the Northern Regions, as well as the bodies of four Inquisition Officers to be sent back to the homeland via the embassy.

And then, the cult was thrown into disarray.

These Inquisition Officers were considered elite; they had been selected even among the best staff due to their dispatch to neighborhoods embroiled in conflicts with the demonic forces. But overnight, four of them returned as corpses.

I wasn’t entirely certain about the internal circumstances, but from what Lucia said, there seemed to be a great deal of speculation within the cult. The Pope ordered an investigation by Petrus, and the Inquisition decided to conduct their own inquiry and autopsy.

By this point, I was convinced that the Imperial Guard HQ, along with the Empire Information Agency, had caught wind of things.

Even without the specific details, it was likely that they knew the Inquisition had independently conducted operations in the Northern Regions and, in that process, four Inquisition Officers had met their demise.

However, I could neither go to the embassy or hotel to gather information nor connect with Priest Rebecca to conceal the truth.

“Gah….”

Even with the sun high in the sky, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed. It was unacceptable.

The wounds left on my chest and abdomen were painful enough on their own, and the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain through my body. The more significant problem was that the wounds were rotting in real-time.

I hadn’t realized it just after waking up, but I was truly in a state where I felt I might die of shock.

Lucia stayed by my side, unable to do anything as she cared for me. She gently wiped my wounds with a cloth soaked in holy water, fetched me water, and administered antibiotics and painkillers. Of course, they hardly seemed effective.

She spoke of medical knowledge I couldn’t place as she meticulously tended to my wounds.

“The wounds inflicted by a demon and a necromancer are most critical in the first few days. Tomorrow will be more painful than today, and the day after tomorrow will be worse still. I intended to give a detailed explanation by today, but….”

As Lucia alternated between inspecting my wounds and my contorted face, she let out a deep sigh.

“You hardly seem in a condition to hear a story. Perhaps it would be better to take a sleeping pill and rest?”

“…That won’t do.”

“Then it cannot be helped.”

Setting down the glass of water and pills she had offered, Lucia sighed again.

Tap. As I lay there staring at the ceiling, I heard something drop to the floor.

At the edge of my vision, I caught glimpses of Lucia’s head appearing and disappearing as she moved about busily. She lifted the blanket slightly and climbed onto the bed.

Then, invoking her divine power, she whispered softly.

“It will take quite some time for the wounds to recover. While they won’t heal completely, at least I can prevent their condition from worsening.”

“Even a state of maintenance would be good enough.”

I managed to respond weakly, and Lucia silently began to heal my wounds.

 

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