Chapter 57

Campbell (2)

“Raguel, are you prepared to die?”

Silence fell over the library.

For a long while, no one spoke.

Raguel was the first to break the silence.

“…I need an explanation.”

A troubled look appeared on Maphel’tan’s face. Instead of answering, he looked at Ilea.

“Ilea, didn’t you give him a general explanation?”

Ilea replied emotionlessly,

“I was going to, but I stopped. If Maphel’tan’s plan is what I suspect it to be, then I thought it was something you should explain to the young master yourself.”

Why Maphel’tan insisted on taking Raguel into the Abyss, what he had meant by promising to restore his sight, and the true meaning behind asking whether he was prepared to die—Ilea had been unable to tell Raguel what she knew.

After all, there was only one answer to all those questions.

Maphel’tan wanted Raguel to abandon his humanity.

It was a subject that had to be discussed between the two of them.

Maphel’tan suppressed a groan. Deep down, he had hoped Ilea would persuade Raguel for him.

He had subtly attempted to foist the troublesome task upon her.

Maphel’tan’s scheme had failed spectacularly.

Ilea was more resolute than he had expected. She usually went along with Maphel’tan’s unreasonable demands while pretending to be reluctant, but this particular matter seemed to cross one of her boundaries.

I still don’t understand where she draws that line.

Clicking his tongue, Maphel’tan approached Raguel.

For now, persuading Raguel took priority over figuring out Ilea’s thoughts.

Maphel’tan placed a hand upon Raguel’s shoulder.

“Before I explain, let me ask you one thing.”

It was an opening that created a considerable amount of tension.

Raguel swallowed dryly.

“G-go ahead.”

“Do you trust me?”

Confusion spread across Raguel’s face.

“What do you mean, do I trust you…?”

“I’m asking whether you believe that my actions will never bring you misery—that I am not a creature composed entirely of blind malice.”

The sudden question left Raguel somewhat flustered.

He did not know how he was supposed to respond.

Scratching his head, he said,

“I-it’s a little difficult to answer when you ask me something like that so suddenly.”

“Don’t feel pressured. Just tell me what you’ve always thought.”

Maphel’tan’s voice had turned solemn.

Raguel felt that he ought to give him a serious answer.

He fell into thought for a moment and began organizing his feelings toward Maphel’tan.

Maphel’tan and Johan.

Although they sometimes appeared to be vicious demons, they occasionally displayed deeply human qualities.

Anyone who had witnessed their actions would probably agree.

Raguel’s opinion was no different.

Who had been the first to extend a hand to him when his life had been a living hell? Who had given him a reason to continue living with even the faintest sliver of hope?

It had all been Maphel’tan.

Of course, there was always a hidden motive behind his kindness, but those intentions had never once blossomed into horrific malice.

At least, not until now.

Maphel’tan might have been a contradictory being, but he was not an evil spirit consumed by malice.

With a rather serious expression, Raguel said,

“I trust you, Maphel’tan. I’m in a position where I have no choice but to trust you in the first place. The moment I reject you, there will be nothing left in my life.”

Without Maphel’tan, Raguel’s life would be no different from pitch-black darkness.

In truth, Raguel did not even possess the luxury of choosing whether to trust him.

Maphel’tan opened his mouth.

“I understand what you mean. So I will make you one promise. Your trust will never be betrayed. If you wish, I can even put my life on the line and formalize that promise with a contract.”

Just what was he about to say that required him to mention a demonic contract?

Anxiety appeared on Raguel’s face.

“There’s no need for a contract, so please just get to the point. Maphel’tan, what exactly do you want from me?”

Maphel’tan answered calmly,

“I want you to relinquish your humanity. In the Abyss, I want you to cast aside the human named Raguel and be reborn as a different kind of being.”

If he agreed, Raguel would obtain a new body.

Naturally, his sight would also return.

Raguel swallowed a groan.

“Are you asking me to become a demon?”

Maphel’tan shook his head.

“You will be reborn as something more primordial.”

“Something primordial…?”

Ilea interjected,

“One of the forgotten ancient races. Like witches such as myself.”

Besides humans and demons, thirteen other races had once existed in this world. Of those thirteen, only the witches remained in the present age.

The other twelve had all gone extinct.

Maphel’tan intended to restore every one of them in preparation for the apocalypse that would come toward the end of the story.

Raguel would become the cornerstone of that plan.

He considered Ilea’s words.

“An ancient race like the witches…”

Maphel’tan nodded.

“Can you become one of them?”

Raguel’s face became clouded with complicated emotions.

Even though he placed little value upon his life as a human, abandoning his identity was not an easy choice.

Silence flowed through the library for a long time.

Only after a considerable while did Raguel finally speak.

“…This is probably something you desperately need, isn’t it, Maphel’tan?”

“Even so, I have no intention of forcing you. Whatever you choose, I will respect your decision.”

He meant it sincerely. There was surely someone else who could replace Raguel somewhere in the world.

Raguel’s lips moved without producing a sound. After hesitating for a long time, he slowly raised his head.

The blind boy stared directly at Maphel’tan with his sightless eyes.

“I’ll do it. Because I trust you, Maphel’tan.”

Firm resolve filled his subdued voice.

The corners of Maphel’tan’s lips rose.

“That trust will be rewarded. We’ll discuss the details once we reach the Abyss.”

***

Dawn began to break.

The light rising over the hills drove away the lingering mirages of the previous night.

It was time to awaken from anguish and contemplation and return to reality.

The formerly dark room gradually brightened with a pale blue glow.

The knight Campbell sat cross-legged on the floor. Although he had not slept for even a moment throughout the long night, his face was clearer than ever.

Firm determination filled his expression.

…Yes. I must atone.

Campbell stared at the small brazier before him. A dagger was heating among the glowing embers.

Once the cold steel had turned bright red, he retrieved the dagger from the brazier.

Without the slightest hesitation, he pressed the scorching blade against his face.

Sizzle!

White smoke rose into the air. The stench of burning flesh filled the room, and a suppressed groan escaped his lips.

An unbearable burning sensation assaulted his skin.

“Ghk… Hrrrgh!”

Despite the agony, Campbell did not stop. He tightened his grip and pressed the blade harder against his flesh.

Burn scars once again spread across his face. His skin was returning to its former appearance, becoming hideously disfigured.

“Th-this is right. This is what must be done.”

The previous night, an unknown being had healed Campbell’s scars.

He had been rewarded for his repentance.

Campbell could not accept that.

He had done nothing but blame himself. He had never truly atoned, not even once. He had merely drowned his guilt in alcohol, lacking even the courage to expose his crimes.

Campbell did not deserve a reward.

Only after asking the Third Prince for forgiveness should he await judgment, whether that judgment brought punishment or reward.

That was the conclusion he had reached after a night of anguish.

Groaning, Campbell dropped the dagger.

Pieces of skin clung to its blade.

His face burned unbearably.

Without treating the wound, he lowered his visor over his face.

As steel touched his melted skin, excruciating pain surged through him.

“Ghk… Urrgh.”

Even amid the horrifying pain, Campbell stubbornly finished preparing to leave.

It was time to set out in search of the Third Prince.

The moment he flung open the door, a familiar face greeted him.

“Have you finally matured? You woke up and finished preparing to leave before I even came to rouse you. I’m almost impressed.”

It was Myra. He lightly applauded as though genuinely admiring the sight.

“…Brother.”

“What is that burning smell? Don’t tell me you cooked meat by yourself.”

After a brief hesitation, Campbell lifted his visor.

Myra’s expression twisted in horror.

“Y-you!”

Campbell’s skin had been completely scorched, leaving his face even more wretched than before.

“What do you think, Brother? Isn’t this appearance perfectly suited to someone like me?”

“Have you finally lost your mind?!”

“If not for what happened last night, you would have been right. I would eventually have gone mad. But not anymore. If anything, I’ve finally come to my senses.”

Myra could not understand what was happening.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“You would never understand, so simply think of it as your younger brother finally discovering what he must do as a knight. I’ll be leaving now.”

When Campbell attempted to leave, Myra blocked his path.

“Where do you think you’re going in that condition? You won’t take a single step until you explain yourself properly!”

Campbell’s expression became calm and impassive.

“I intend to meet His Highness the Third Prince.”

“What?!”

“I’m sure I don’t need to explain why. Now step aside.”

Myra immediately drew his sword.

“You dare betray our lord?!”

Campbell snorted.

“I am not the count’s dog. I am the sword and shield of the royal family.”

“Now you want to pretend you’re some noble knight? You’ve already been defiled!”

“Think whatever you wish. I’ve made my decision. I intend to wash away at least some of this filth.”

Campbell’s eyes were filled with determination.

There was no way to break his resolve.

“If that is truly your decision!”

Myra pointed the tip of his sword at Campbell.

Campbell’s expression turned cold.

“Brother, are you truly confident? If you intend to stop me, you’ll have to be prepared to die.”

Myra’s gaze wavered for a moment.

Campbell was a knight capable of projecting his aura. He was a warrior one full level above Myra.

The difference between stages among knights represented an enormous gulf in strength. The victor of a fight between Myra and Campbell had already been decided before it even began.

Myra could not bring himself to swing his sword. He merely bit his lip and said,

“Your family, your father, even your siblings—they could all be slaughtered.”

They were the greatest shackles binding Campbell.

Four years earlier, he had been forced to attack the Third Prince’s palace for the sake of his family.

Campbell opened his mouth.

“If they are truly knights, then they must pay the price for their disloyalty.”

House Laura was a family sworn to serve the royal house. Having forgotten their covenant and pointed their blades at their rightful masters, they could not escape responsibility for their treason.

“…You intend to abandon your family?”

“I am no longer a Laura. Do not associate me with them.”

Leaving only those words behind, Campbell walked out of the village chief’s house. Ignoring the shouts from behind him, he stopped briefly outside.

His gaze fell upon the visor in his hand.

After a moment’s thought, Campbell casually threw it away.

He would wear no more masks.

He intended to bear full responsibility for his actions without hiding.

He carefully touched the scars upon his face.

…Maphel’tan.

If he succeeded in atoning, that mysterious being would erase Campbell’s scars once again with a mere gesture.

Surely, such a miracle was nothing to a god named Maphel’tan.

Campbell started to make the sign of the cross but stopped himself.

He still did not know how Maphel’tan was supposed to be worshipped.

After pondering for a moment, Campbell raised both arms high above his head.

It was a pose of triumph.

He then scratched his head awkwardly and resumed walking.

The Dream Demon perched upon his shoulder giggled.