Chapter Thirty-Eight: Heretical Doctrines and Twisted Logic

In that instant, the malformed corpses lost control, descending into chaos: some fled toward the villa’s exterior, some turned to stone, some waited in bewilderment for death, some continued their attacks, but none posed a real threat anymore.

Korov seized a corpse hound and issued a command; the beast bore him away at a furious pace.

Solaise cried out, "Don’t let him escape!" She lunged, but the hound sped like the wind, eluding her grasp. The Broken Bell’s arms stretched long, yet still fell short, and the remaining corpse hounds grew ever more ferocious, encircling Mircer, Solaise, and the Broken Bell.

I knew I could not let Korov get away. The corpse hounds paid me no mind; I scrambled up and pursued him with all my strength. I noted the tracks of the hound on the ground—he hadn’t managed to shake me off. Perhaps the curse-fire within him was running low, forcing him to choose between sustaining the hound and healing himself. As I ran, I injected myself with medication and focused my psychic blades in my legs.

Tracking him, I arrived at a lonely hillock in the pre-dawn hour. The sky was violet, human silhouettes stark against its backdrop. I saw Korov, half reclining before an unknown grave.

The malformed corpse barked twice at me; Korov killed it and said, "It’s too bothersome."

I replied, "You can’t escape. The Rangers will take you in, and you’ll pay for all you’ve done—certainly with your life."

Korov laughed. "Punished? I’ve been executed by you humans countless times. What you speak of isn’t new to me."

I said, "I don’t care how miserable you once were. That’s got nothing to do with me. You angered the Black Coffin—that’s why you deserve death."

Korov seemed not to hear, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. He spoke as if to himself. "You know, I had a mother, just as I created Solaise and Broken Bell, so she created me. She made me realize that living corpses need not endure such indignity."

He crushed a few passing ants, then continued, "Mother and I tried to find a place to belong in the wasteland. We found a village—there were walls, relatively safe. They dug pits in the fields to hide from storms when needed. We begged the humans; they took us in."

He lowered his head, dissected the ants, revealing a weak smile. "We carried the ghost flame. It could work miracles, heal their sick, but it couldn’t heal their hearts. Mother did much for them, but they were never grateful. After a month, they... killed her, divided her into pieces, set her head on a wooden rack and burned it."

"They said Mother was a child-eating witch, though not a single child was ever missing. Can you believe it? Just because they decided we were guilty, we were guilty. They wouldn’t listen to defense, seek evidence, or trust reason—only their prejudice."

He injected ghost flame into the dead ant; it revived, tried to return to its colony, but the others swiftly killed it.

Korov shook his head. "I’ve had enough. What use is kindness? What use is goodness, respect, or helping others? You’re just meat to them—when they’re hungry, they eat you, then discard you like waste."

I said, "We’re all the same. What are we, in the eyes of the nobility?"

Korov cursed, "The same? Hardly! Our lives are worth less than insects. Humans at least ignore insects, but they’re born to loathe us!" He looked aside. "You’re just using my children. One day, you’ll nail them to crosses and burn them, calling it a service to the people."

Anger flared in me. I shouted, "Nonsense! I refuse to believe it. I won’t let you be right. I’ll treat them well, let them feel no different from humans."

Korov smiled. "Then you’ll suffer, believe me. Fate is never fair to us. If we don’t suffer, those we love will."

He said, "Let me tell you another secret."

Impatient, I glanced back, wishing the Rangers would hurry and lock this loudmouth away.

Korov said, "All the world’s demons are human."

I believed he was rambling, borrowing religious jargon about original sin, trying to shake my resolve. I replied, "Is that all you can say?"

Korov said, "The white demons, red demons, black demons, lava demons you’ve encountered—they were all once human. Like us living corpses, they mutated and became demons."

I said, "What proof do you have? Isn’t this just fear-mongering?"

Korov smiled. "I know, very clearly. I’ve observed it. They’re possessed by demons, cursed. Are we any different? We’re no longer who we were; neither are they."

I countered, "There are plenty of theories about the apocalypse—some say demons came from other realms. But none of that matters now. Even if it’s understood, what difference does it make? We just want to survive. No time for digging up roots."

Korov said, "I met someone—Simon Magnus. Have you heard of him?"

I was shaken. "Magnus? Where is he?"

Korov said, "He’s the Cardinal of the Epoch Empire. He confirmed my view. He believes humanity’s birth is intertwined with demons, and demons have planted... switches, entrances within us."

"Most people, once a demon triggers the switch, mutate, become bloodthirsty lunatics, like the white demon or malformed corpse—brainless beasts."

"But a rare few, with entirely different bloodlines—Simon called them 'Nephilim'—can master that power, remain rational, and become astonishingly strong."

I recalled that Vagha was called Nephilim—a demon’s descendant—by Charon’s people. Apparently, this theory had been around a long time. But so what? Even if demons were once human, could I wave a white flag and negotiate with them?

Korov said, "You... are naturally Nephilim. We... living corpses are too, as are the Black Coffin’s nobility."

He continued, "I can hear it, I can smell it—you’ve been... touched by a demon, a terrifying one. We were all once human, but no longer."

"Some ritual... changed us. For us, it was death, decomposition, rebirth. For the bloodline, it’s losing blood and replacing it with demon blood. And you? What ritual did you undergo?"

I stood firm, but inwardly wanted to turn and flee. I told myself to ignore this fiend, but the fish’s eyes seemed to fill the night sky, whispering to me tales of horror, truths that could drive one mad.

Suddenly, shouts echoed from afar—the Rangers’ reinforcements had arrived. Though their timing reeked of opportunism, at least I no longer had to guard Korov alone.

Korov laughed, "Fear is the demon’s invitation. Humanity will never catch me again, never shame or torture me! I do not defend my sins—on the contrary, I’m proud of my revenge on humanity!" In a flash, brilliant ghost flame consumed his body, reducing him to ashes, not even leaving a bone.

Mircer and Salvador were among the crowd, Lamia and Jounan too. I didn’t see the Broken Bell siblings—they must have gone into hiding, which was best for them.

Lamia and I embraced, and I recounted the case in detail. I didn’t tell her about Simon Magnus—that would wait for another time. Korov’s theory about Nephilim and demons was unreliable, so I decided not to mention it to anyone.

Maybe he was right.

But what of it?

Ten hours later, Mircer, Salvador, and I were in Le Steel’s office. Le Steel held a dossier, reading behind his desk. I found the chair behind me uncomfortable, kept glancing longingly at the sofa opposite. At last, unable to resist, I sat on the sofa, but found it too soft—unsuitable for my iron-backed, steel-bottomed frame.

So I returned to the chair.

Le Steel said, "Longinus, you know the Black Coffin Rangers have certain rules and regulations."

I said, "What? I just cracked a major case, and you’re talking about this?"

Le Steel said, "Yes. For example, one must maintain respect before one’s superior—the most basic being to sit still."

I replied, resigned, "Yes, sir. But you really ought to get some better chairs."

Le Steel said, "Fine, I’ll replace these chairs tomorrow."

He paused, then continued, "Though the era is chaotic, the Black Coffin’s purpose is to bring order, especially when investigating cases in the skyscraper. There’s a whole process for gathering evidence."

I had no time for those rules. "Sir, what process?"

Le Steel smiled, "I don’t know either. But there’s a damned process, that's for sure."

We laughed together—I knew he didn’t really care.

Le Steel said, "You killed Korov. That’s a great accomplishment, but you didn’t bring in anyone for trial—so it’s not perfect."

I said, "Somo was confirmed to be connected to the Blood Pact Gang, which has long illegally trafficked black citizens. The Black Coffin’s security is full of loopholes, practically nonexistent." At this, I worried I’d harmed Boss Abby and Vagha’s interests, so I stopped short.

Le Steel said, "We’ll intensify efforts to combat black citizen crimes. But we can’t touch Somo—he’s a noble. He can do anything in the lower levels, and only Maizong can restrain him."

Mircer asked, "Anything? Can he murder and burn without consequence?"

Le Steel said, "Of course he’ll be punished. We’ll indict him in the Elder Council, but that will disrupt the Black Coffin’s political balance." He sighed, "Besides, we need the Blood Pact Gang."

We all asked, "What?"

Le Steel said, "That’s the Governor’s intention. I can’t ask further."

Mircer said, "You’re unwilling to manage the lower levels, so you cultivate criminals as proxies?"

Le Steel said, "That’s the end of your report. Major Longinus, Captain Salvador, and Mr. Mircer, thank you for upholding the Rangers’ honor. I have urgent matters—farewell."

I regretted not being promoted straight to colonel, but given my friendship with Le Steel, I could accept it.

And, since I’d been possessed by a demon, I inadvertently pocketed a few perhaps not-so-valuable trinkets from Le Steel’s office. We’re all friends; I hope he won’t mind.