Chapter 79
The Count’s Domain (9)
Yeriyan’s skull shattered before the Count’s eyes.
Fragments scattered through the air, and white bone dust drifted everywhere.
To the Count, the entire scene seemed to unfold in slow motion.
He simply could not accept what had happened.
He stood frozen like a statue.
Time came to a standstill within the secret chamber.
No one spoke. Nothing moved.
Only after a long while did the Count finally open his mouth.
“Yeriyan…?”
He trudged forward and stopped before the Celestial Coffin.
The crushed skeleton lay inside.
The Count dropped to his knees.
“I-It’s not too late.”
He hurriedly began gathering the shattered remains.
He scooped together the bone dust and searched for every fragment that had fallen to the floor.
Resurrection was still possible even if the corpse had been slightly damaged.
As long as no part was missing.
The Count desperately collected the remains.
Ilea regarded him with a pitying expression.
“That would be cheating. You made a mistake, so you need to pay the proper price.”
The tip of her index finger blazed crimson.
Ilea reached toward Yeriyan with it.
Sizzle!
The white bones instantly turned red, glowing like iron fresh from a furnace.
The Count’s pupils dilated.
“N-No! Don’t!”
At that moment, the skeleton exploded.
Fragments burst outward in every direction.
The pieces that landed on the floor had been charred black.
Some melted away entirely, and smoke rose from several spots.
The Count stared blankly into the Celestial Coffin.
Yeriyan had vanished without a trace.
The coffin was empty.
Johan spoke.
“Do not blame me. It was your recklessness that killed Yeriyan.”
The Count had ignored Johan’s warning and continued provoking him.
Yeriyan’s death was the price he had paid.
All vitality vanished from the Count’s eyes. They had lost even their focus.
He stared vacantly at the Celestial Coffin.
“What have I been living for…?”
The Count had loved his wife more than his own life.
He would have sacrificed anything for her.
Everything he had done to accumulate power and influence had been for her sake.
The Count had lived solely to obtain the strength and authority necessary to bring her back to life.
Only a few steps remained before he reached his goal.
He had been so close, yet the road had abruptly ended.
Now he would never reach his destination.
His entire life had been rendered meaningless.
A devastating sense of loss struck the Count.
Clutching his head, he writhed in agony.
Not even a proper scream escaped him. A muffled wail echoed through the chamber, as though he were crying out underwater.
“Hu… Huaaagh…”
The Count continued convulsing.
He repeatedly slammed his head against the floor, then clawed madly at the Celestial Coffin with his fingernails.
The sight of a man falling apart was truly wretched.
Johan spoke.
“Cromwell, how long do you intend to remain obsessed with a mere woman? You still have many things left to protect.”
His power, his family, his wealth, his honor—there were undoubtedly things of value that would be a shame to simply abandon.
The Count slowly raised his head and met Johan’s gaze.
His eyes had turned as black as a demon’s. Bloody tears streamed endlessly from them.
“…What did you just say?”
“Your life is not over yet. Protect what remains, at least. Let us continue the conversation we were having earlier.”
The despair of losing Yeriyan gradually transformed into rage directed at Johan.
The Count struggled to his feet.
Swaying unsteadily, he spoke.
“I no longer have any reason to live.”
Then, without warning, he tore off his pendant.
A faint trace of wariness appeared on Ilea’s face.
“Johan, stand back.”
An ominous light radiated from the Count’s pendant.
The Count spoke.
“I will join my wife—and I will take all of you with me as companions on the road to the afterlife.”
Immediately afterward, the pendant ignited with black flames.
Grotesque patterns appeared across the ash-gray floor.
A concealed spell formation was revealing itself.
The formation expanded with astonishing speed.
It swiftly engulfed the third level of the Shadow Citadel before spreading to the second and first floors.
Screams erupted in the distance.
“I-It’s a summoning ritual!”
“Get out of here!”
The Evil God Society’s followers were thrown into an uproar.
Johan’s expression twisted.
“Cromwell, what are you trying to do?”
The Count’s lips curled grotesquely.
He was laughing while shedding tears of blood.
“Everyone in the city will be offered to the Netherworld. Your flesh and blood will also be sacrificed to Saehel.”
Saehel was a Great Demon ranked within the top twenty of the Netherworld.
A being composed of pure evil.
The Count intended to summon a calamity upon this land.
Johan said,
“Your family and your entire house will be sacrificed as well.”
The Count’s face took on a ghastly expression.
“Do you honestly think I care?”
The Count had already lost his mind. Nothing anyone said would reach him now.
Johan clicked his tongue.
“Ilea, can you stop the ritual?”
Ilea shook her head.
“The ritual began after the formation had already been completed. There’s no way to stop it now.”
“Then escaping the city is our best option.”
“I’ve already made the preparations. Let’s go.”
A complex magic circle had formed above Ilea’s head.
It was probably a spell of the highest order.
The Count screamed as though coughing up blood.
“You will not escape! You will fall into hell with me!”
Johan replied expressionlessly,
“Cromwell, you pathetic fool. You kicked away the blessing that fell right into your lap. In your next life, I hope you are born with some wisdom.”
At that moment, the spell formula engulfed Johan and Ilea.
The two dissolved into streams of blue light and shot away somewhere in an instant.
The Count went into a frenzy.
“Saehel! Descend at once! Hunt them down and kill them!”
The spell formation drawn across the floor spewed forth black light.
Dense darkness swallowed the Shadow Citadel.
The population of the city of Beldana exceeded one hundred thousand.
Including its transient population, nearly two hundred thousand people were always present within the city.
Every one of them screamed.
The city descended into madness.
Black hands had erupted from beneath their feet.
The grotesque demonic appendages seized people and dragged them down into hell.
Treasures, holy relics, gold, jewels, and human lives—everything was being offered to the Netherworld.
No one could stop the ritual.
A Great Demon had descended into the mortal realm.
“Waaaaaaaaah!”
The deafening wail of a baby reverberated across the city.
The now-empty city was engulfed in black shadows.
An enormous being hovered above Beldana.
It was an infant in human form—a demon composed entirely of pure evil. Its smile was innocent, yet carried an inexplicable cruelty. Tentacles protruded from its six nipples and swayed in the air.
Its drooping genitalia continuously discharged a black secretion.
Whenever the infant cried, nature itself screamed.
Trees withered, and rivers began to rot.
Every plant and animal was dying.
A maddened voice echoed through the air.
“Saehel! Find them!”
The Count’s tiny face protruded from the infant’s broad crown.
His eyes darted about as he searched for Johan and Ilea.
Neither of them was anywhere to be seen.
“You little rats! Where are you hiding?!”
Saehel began to move.
Death followed in its wake.
Villages and castles rotted away and vanished.
The city was annihilated.
Numerous subjugation forces were assembled, but most were completely wiped out.
The entire kingdom was being reduced to ruins.
Only after the Empire and the Holy Kingdom joined the battle were they finally able to halt Saehel’s advance.
***
“Heretic Cromwell Staviana, you secretly presided over a forbidden ritual of unknown origin. By using it to summon Saehel, you defied the Mandate of Heaven and Divine Law. Your crimes are hereby classified among the Seven Deadly Sins, and the Order passes judgment upon you through the following decree.”
A sentence of death was being read aloud at the Holy Kingdom’s central cathedral.
A vast crowd had gathered to watch the Count upon the execution platform.
The elderly gentleman he had once been was nowhere to be seen. All that remained was a withered old monster staring emptily at the sky.
“First, the heretic Cromwell shall be stripped of his noble surname. Second, the name Staviana shall be permanently erased from the kingdom’s register of nobility, designated a record of heresy, and forbidden from being passed down. Third, as the Staviana bloodline has been judged the source of heresy and corruption, every member of the related clans shall be put to death. Fourth, the sentence shall be carried out through incineration into nothingness—a burning that will erase even the traces of his wickedness.”
When the reading ended, the executioners gathered around the platform.
The magistrate addressed the Count.
“Cromwell, do you have any final words?”
The Count opened his mouth, his face vacant.
“…Yeriyan, I shall soon be by your side.”
The magistrate frowned.
“Carry out the sentence!”
The executioners set the platform ablaze.
Crimson flames engulfed the Count’s body.
Even as he burned, the Count smiled.
“At last, I will see you again.”
Just as he was about to close his eyes, brilliant light poured down from the heavens.
As though entranced, the Count stared into the light.
“C-Could it be…?”
Amid the radiance, a presence even more brilliant was descending.
A blonde woman manifested, beating her wings.
“Yeriyan!”
It was the Count’s wife.
The angel gently embraced the dying Count.
“Cromwell, my love. I wanted to see you again in this world.”
Tears welled in the Count’s eyes.
“Forgive me. I was inadequate and foolish. In the end, I failed to protect you, Yeriyan.”
“Do not blame yourself. You are capable of doing better.”
The Count lowered his head.
“It is already over. I am a failure.”
The angel stroked his hair.
“What if you were given one more chance?”
“What do you mean…?”
The angel pointed toward the crowd.
The Count looked in the direction she indicated.
A boy was holding out his hand to him.
The angel spoke.
“Take his hand. He will give you one final chance.”
The Count slowly raised his arm.
The boy’s lips stretched into a broad smile.
He opened his mouth.
“Let’s do better this time, Cromwell Staviana.”
At that moment, the Count’s vision shattered like glass.
The sound of retching echoed through the ash-gray secret chamber.
The Count lay sprawled on the floor, vomiting.
It was almost impossible to retain his sanity. His mind had been utterly devastated.
Summoning superhuman willpower, he pushed himself upright.
There was no one else in the chamber.
Only the Celestial Coffin remained.
The Count immediately rushed toward it.
His pupils widened.
Yeriyan was gone. A single letter lay in her place.
He immediately picked it up.
It bore the crescent-moon seal of House Myatro.
With trembling hands, the Count opened the letter.
—Cromwell Staviana, this time I shall be the one to invite you. Come to the Myatro domain.
P.S. I will look after Yeriyan for the time being. She is unharmed.
A sheet of paper slipped out of the letter.
It was a portrait of Yeriyan.
The Count quickly checked around his neck.
His pendant was gone.
It seemed Johan had taken it with him.
The Count silently stared at the invitation Johan had left behind.
“Johan Myatro.”
Just what was he? Who could be so cruel and yet so daring?
It truly felt as though he had been toyed with by a demon.
Yet, at the same time, he felt relieved.
His life was not over yet.