Chapter 36
The Scribe of the Book of Calamity (1)
Johan hurriedly left his room.
He was going to meet his biological mother.
‘I have a mountain of questions.’
Questions filled his mind, but his priority was clear.
First, he had to learn the identity of the demon that had slept with her.
That demon was most likely Johan’s biological father. His future course of action would change drastically depending on what kind of being that demon was.
Tension rose within him.
What he was about to hear would have an enormous impact on his future.
Johan took a deep breath. Before he knew it, he had reached a secluded room on the third floor of the lord’s castle.
His biological mother had been living in seclusion there, in a part of the castle that was rarely visited.
Johan knocked on the door.
At that moment, it slowly opened.
A small, frail woman stared at Johan with reddened eyes.
The instant their gazes met, Johan’s mind went somewhat blank. He had countless questions, yet suddenly he could not remember any of them.
He stood frozen, his lips tightly sealed.
Amid the strange silence, his biological mother spoke first.
“…You’ve grown so much.”
Her voice was heavy with sorrow, yet remarkably clear. Her expression, seemingly on the verge of tears, also brimmed with life.
She was different from before.
Her mind had returned.
The widow who had wandered about in a daze was gone, leaving only a mother concerned for her child.
She carefully caressed Johan’s cheek.
“I’m sorry. Please forgive your foolish mother.”
Johan did not know how to respond. Having grown up in an orphanage, the very idea of a mother was unfamiliar to him, and he had no idea how to handle such a situation.
Even the affection in her gaze felt utterly foreign.
Without realizing it, Johan took a step backward.
The hand that had been resting against his cheek withdrew awkwardly.
“…Once again, I thought only of myself. I’m truly sorry.”
The woman’s voice trembled with guilt.
What was he supposed to say to her? He had no idea.
He merely wanted to escape these unfamiliar emotions and this awkward situation.
Johan blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“A-Are you feeling all right?”
Perhaps she had not expected the question, because the woman looked at Johan in mild surprise. Then a faint smile appeared on her lips.
“My child, you needn’t worry about me. I know there is something else you truly wish to ask, but all I can tell you is that the time has not yet come.”
“…I only want to know who my biological father is.”
“A prohibition has been placed upon his name. Please understand.”
A prohibition was a covenant engraved into the world itself—an inviolable law.
When such a prohibition surrounded a being, merely uttering its name would cost the speaker their life.
For now, Johan had no means of discovering his biological father’s identity.
Disappointment clouded his face.
The woman spoke with a sorrowful expression.
“There is only one thing I can tell you now. Beware the Scribe of the Book of Calamity. He will soon come looking for you and subject you to a trial.”
The Scribe of the Book of Calamity, Kaiaze. Every reader of The Chronicle of Humans and Demons knew of that archdemon.
Kaiaze was the scribe who created and oversaw the original Book of Calamity and recorded every evil deed committed throughout the world. The first chapter of the Book of Calamity that had been stored in the forbidden library was also his work.
Johan could not conceal his alarm at the mention of Kaiaze.
“Why would Kaiaze come looking for me?”
“He is keeping your Book of Calamity.”
“Don’t tell me he intends to give it to me…”
“That’s right. You are the master of the thirteenth chapter. The moment you touched the original Book of Calamity, your existence was likely made known throughout the Netherworld.”
In other words, Johan was now indisputably the Thirteenth Apostle of the End.
He stared directly at his biological mother.
“Just how much do you know?”
He could not bring himself to call her “Mother.”
“A little more than the tip of the iceberg. But this is all the advice I can give you. I’ll say it again—be careful. Kaiaze is a far more vicious and ferocious demon than you imagine. If you fail to convince him, you will suffer greatly.”
Johan also knew Kaiaze’s true nature well.
He was so savage that he was called the Beast of Hell.
The moment Johan allowed Kaiaze to look down on him, Apostle or not, he would be reduced to prey.
“Can you determine when he will arrive?”
“It could be today or tomorrow. The only certainty is that you do not have much time.”
Johan felt as though he had been struck with a hammer.
‘Today or tomorrow?’
The moment that archdemon manifested in the lord’s castle, every plan Johan had made would come to nothing.
Every faction in the world—the kingdom, the empire, and the Holy Kingdom alike—would turn its attention toward the Myatro territory.
Johan was not yet capable of handling that much scrutiny.
He urgently turned around.
‘I must leave the territory as quickly as possible.’
The Myatro territory could not be allowed to become the place where Kaiaze manifested.
Johan was about to leave when he suddenly looked back at the woman.
“Just one last question…”
He could not finish speaking.
The light in the woman’s eyes had already grown murky.
She had lost her senses once again.
“Ha.”
A hollow laugh and a sigh escaped him simultaneously.
He felt stifled, and an inexplicable heaviness weighed upon his heart.
Such emotions were unnecessary when something so serious lay ahead, but Johan could not easily cast them aside.
‘For now, let’s focus on Kaiaze. Everything else comes afterward.’
He somehow composed himself and spoke.
“I’ll come back another time. Until then, please take care of yourself.”
With those words, Johan left the room.
He intended to collect only the bare necessities from the forbidden library and then leave the territory.
***
Darkness descended.
Once the curfew took effect, the lights illuminating the streets disappeared one after another.
The Myatro territory sank into darkness.
The only remaining light came from the church, which absorbed the moonlight and glowed faintly.
From a guest room in the lord’s castle, Shaperia looked down at the village church.
“Saint Margiel, please grant me an answer.”
She traced the sign of the cross with her fingertips.
Ordinarily, sacred light would have embroidered a pentagram across the darkness, but that was no longer the case.
Her sign remained incomplete.
It contained no divine power.
Had it not been said that a prayer devoid of divine power could not reach the Great Saint?
‘Should I find a priest to pray on my behalf?’
Praying on behalf of ordinary people was one of the clergy’s primary duties.
That was why nobles always kept priests by their side.
Shaperia herself had received such requests several times.
But that no longer applied to her.
She traced the sign of the cross again.
‘There must be a purpose behind this. Even without divine power, I must not forget my duty.’
Even the lowliest person could love the Great Saint. They, too, had a religious role to fulfill.
Moreover, had she not once received the Great Saint’s grace? Her present hardship must surely be a trial intended to prepare her for some purpose.
If she remained devoted to her responsibilities, the Great Saint would one day call upon her again.
For now, she had to concentrate on the mission entrusted to her.
Shaperia released a long sigh.
Her role was to investigate Knight Rael, but in truth, the assignment was exceedingly vague.
After the incident involving the Book of Calamity, the Order’s investigative team had left the territory. Shaperia alone remained behind to search for clues concerning Rael.
Naturally, she had found nothing.
All she had were baseless conjectures.
“Nothing is clear.”
Every recent incident surrounding her was shrouded in mystery.
The appearance of Apostle Beris, her sudden awakening as an angel, the subsequent loss of her divine power, the reactivation of the Book of Calamity, and the emergence of that peculiar horned demon—every one of them raised questions.
Among them, the horned demon’s existence confused her most of all.
‘What exactly was that creature?’
A juvenile demon with a pure-white horn.
The sight of it treating Apostle Beris like livestock remained vivid in her memory.
Even for a horned demon, it was inconceivable that a mere demon would treat an Apostle with such contempt. It was an act that defied all common sense.
That was not the only mystery.
The demon had spared Shaperia.
It could clearly have killed her, yet it had simply left.
No other demon would have behaved that way under the same circumstances.
After all, demons pursued a single objective.
The extinction of humanity.
Given the opportunity, a demon would invariably kill a human.
That creature had been different.
‘Did it say it didn’t want to dirty its hands?’
It had spared Shaperia for such an absurd reason.
She had reported the incident to the Order, but she had received no meaningful answer.
The Order had merely designated the creature “White Horn” and informed her that an investigation would be conducted.
“…White Horn.”
If she encountered it again, she would personally demand an explanation.
She was still deeply lost in thought when a sudden thunderous noise reverberated through the air.
Startled, she looked out the window.
What she saw left her horrified.
The night sky was splitting apart.
A crimson afterimage raced through the torn darkness.
Thunderous explosions crashed down upon the earth.
Space itself screamed as it was sliced and clawed apart.
Shaperia’s eyes widened.
“What is happening now…?!”
Calamities seemed to occur every other day.
This incident appeared no less ominous than the others.
Had the end of the world truly begun?
An unfathomable sense of impending danger consumed her.
Her breathing grew violently ragged.
The occasional roars in the distance seemed to seize her heart.
For a brief moment, she stood there in a daze.
Then pillars of divine power erupted from numerous distant locations.
Churches, dioceses, monasteries, and other institutions that had detected the abnormal phenomenon were raising signal beacons.
They were calling for aid.
As though answering that call, divine power made its presence known throughout the south.
Countless members of the clergy sprang into action.
Clusters of light, both large and small, pursued the crimson afterimage streaking across the night sky.
Shaperia could not remain idle either.
She quickly prepared herself.
Having lost her divine power, she intended to fight using consecrated equipment instead.
Her faith and fighting spirit remained intact.
She might break, but she would never yield.
Shaperia immediately left the room.
***
Unlike gods, demons demanded a specific price for every wish.
If someone desired fertile land, crimson blood had to flow through its underground waterways. If they wished for a bountiful harvest, human flesh and entrails had to become its fertilizer.
So long as the conditions were fulfilled, the reward was guaranteed.
Fertile soil, rapidly growing crops, and yields far greater than usual—a few people were sacrificed so that everyone else could prosper.
A single bargain with a demon was more effective than a hundred prayers.
Anyone who experienced its benefits could not help but worship demons.
The small farming settlement known as Daphone Village was one such example.
Its residents had cultivated a land of milk and honey using human blood and flesh.
Today was the day they prayed for a successful harvest.
They had prepared a traveling merchant and several slash-and-burn farmers as sacrifices to their demon.
At least, that had been the case only a few hours earlier.
Now, most of the villagers lay sprawled across the cold ground, gradually becoming fertilizer themselves.
Their crops would flourish, but no one remained to harvest them.
“What a waste.”
Ilea plucked a ripe apple from a tree.
Her silver hair and pale skin were stained the same color as the fruit.
She took a bite from the apple and rummaged through the pile of corpses.
She pulled out a pitch-black book.
It was a copy of the Book of Calamity.
“Though it may be useless.”
Ilea took the book with her.
Just as she was about to leave, a horrific roar shook heaven and earth.
The night sky distorted.
An entity radiating an overwhelming presence raced through the fractured space.
After observing its speed and trajectory, Ilea’s lips curved into a faint smile.