Lord of The Mysterious Realms-Chapter 74: A Devil's Story, Part Two
The pale face turned toward the black-robed man who had spoken, and he instinctively took a step back.
"There is no need to worry. They will find out sooner or later."
After a brief pause, the figure turned his head toward the person standing furthest away. "You," he stated flatly. "Do not come again."
Without another word or any explanation, he lay back down in the morgue drawer. The metal door slid shut with a soft groan, and the gathering was over.
Everyone filed out in order of their proximity to the door.
Jenkins followed Professor Burns, retracing their path over the low wall and away from the abandoned hospital grounds.
"Hoo..."
He let out a long breath. The oppressive weight on his chest didn't begin to lift until they were on a small path far enough away that the hospital was completely out of sight.
"How did you find it?"
the professor asked.
"That Corpse Gentleman is very powerful,"
Jenkins remarked.
"I'm not so sure about that." The professor wore a perplexed expression. "But the Corpse Gentleman is indeed formidable. He has a solid reputation and even proactively warns us of danger. It was only a few days ago at the church that I learned the incident with the Young Flower Seller weeks ago was related to a Mysterious Object. Around the time it happened, the Corpse Gentleman had warned us to stay away from the city center."
"Oh? Is he also a member of the Church, or does he have other sources of information?"
Jenkins wondered silently.
"What do you make of the haunting? I didn't quite understand what the Corpse Gentleman said at the end."
"There must have been a good reason for his words."
The professor seemed to place great trust in the mysterious, powerful figure. "If he said not to worry, it means the situation poses little danger to us. I've encountered phantoms at the university. They're quite weak, really, though they can certainly give you a fright."
Weak, however, was relative to an Enchanter. For an ordinary person, a spiritual entity that was resistant to physical harm was still incredibly lethal.
With the hospital abandoned, the area was deserted. The two of them hurried through a vast expanse of woods before they finally saw the scattered points of light from the distant city.
"Professor, how will I know about the next gathering?"
"You can subscribe to periodicals at the post office. When you have a moment, order a niche publication called 'Prospects in Tropical Medicine,' publication number: KUES-1860-2314. An issue comes out every week. If the page count is an even number, it means there will be a gathering that week."
He went on to explain the method for extracting the meeting time from the periodical's content, which Jenkins carefully committed to memory. But he still had a question:
"Is the gathering always in that place? Does the Corpse Gentleman just lie there every day?"
"The location is always the same, yes. As for the Corpse Gentleman himself, I do not know. But I imagine no one would dare go there outside of the scheduled gatherings, would they?"
Jenkins nodded. Level 8 was considered quite powerful. Perhaps the man was truly audacious enough to set up his base of operations right there.
Taking a carriage at this hour would easily attract the coachman's attention, so the two continued on foot along a small path toward the city. Finding the long walk tedious, Jenkins decided to strike up another conversation.
"Professor, what are your thoughts on the non-human races that appear in myths and stories?"
he inquired respectfully.
"Oh?"
Professor Burns looked at Jenkins with some surprise. "Young man, that's a remarkable question. Have you also noticed the great gaps in our history? Particularly the gaps at the end of each so-called Epoch."
Before Jenkins could elaborate, the professor continued hurriedly, "Information on the subject is extremely rare. Not a single word is mentioned in any publicly available literature. But some accounts differ greatly from our common understanding—some are even blasphemous."
He stopped, panting slightly, and lowered his voice. "You've heard about the devil that caused such a stir during the great storm, haven't you? How about this... I'll tell you a little story. About a devil. But it's very blasphemous, very blasphemous indeed..."
"Please, go on."
Jenkins also stopped walking and spoke in a hushed tone.
"The story begins long ago, during a certain epoch, in a time of famine. The nobles monopolized the food supply. They would let grain rot in their storehouses rather than distribute it to the poor, starving farmers. It was a tragic era.
There was a brave little boy who, to save his dying younger brother and sister, crossed plains, forests, and seas. At the world's end, in the [Magma Hell], he finally found the most powerful devil of that time and made a pact with him."
"I've heard this story, but not with so much detail."
"Yes, young man. But the rest of it is different."
His voice dropped to a near whisper, his eyes filled with unease.
"The devil said, 'Child, why have you come to me?'
The boy replied, 'Sir, I want my brother and sister to live better.'
The devil said, 'Child, then let us make a pact. Your soul will be mine, and I will grant your wish.'
The boy replied, 'Sir, there's no need for a pact. Just take my soul now. Please, save my poor family.'
The devil said, 'Child, this is not my design. But the gods in the heavens have long seen you all as lambs. They wait only for you to die so they can claim your souls, grind them into mince for their own use. Therefore, we must have a contract to complete our transaction.'"
The professor stopped, clasped his hands to his chest, and prayed to the Sage for a good while.
"Good heavens... these wicked stories must be the ramblings of ancient madmen or heretics. Williams... Jenkins, I only told you because you were curious, but you must never believe it."
"What about the end of the story?"
Jenkins put on a show of praying along with him, but his curiosity remained piqued.
"Oh, Sage, why did you grant this young man such a voracious thirst for knowledge? Alright, alright. The ending. The devil and the boy made their pact. The boy lived a long and happy life with his brother and sister, and after dying of natural causes, his soul was taken by the devil, who had kept his promise."
When he finished, his lips were trembling. "Blasphemy... true blasphemy. Not only does it slander the gods, but it glorifies a devil..."
Until the moment they parted ways, the professor was still tormented by his own conscience. *This must be what a true believer is like,* Jenkins mused.
Jenkins felt a slight pang of guilt, thinking his question might well cost the professor a night's sleep.
It was nearly eleven o'clock by the time he returned home to Maidenhaven Road. Mary Williams was still awake, sitting on the sofa knitting a sweater.
She yawned, told Jenkins there was still some warm food left for him in the kitchen, and then retired to her room.
The next day was just as overcast. After waking, Jenkins reminded himself that his meeting with the huntress was this weekend, while the newspaper indicated that Mr. Hood's gathering was scheduled for the following Wednesday.
.
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Chapter 74: A Devil's Story, Part Two
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