WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈
Chapter 50: The Count's Knights (3)
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At the sudden sound of an unfamiliar voice, Raguel flinched and fell onto his backside.
“Who are you?!”
“I am the Hellfire of Narak! A being who shall receive a name from the Great End!”
The furry Imp stood on Ilea's shoulder with its arms crossed, looking down at Raguel arrogantly.
Raguel was so startled that he could not even speak. Tension showed plainly on his face.
Johan spoke.
“From now on, it will read books to you in my place. Think of it as your designated reader.”
Raguel slowly opened his mouth.
“D-Don't tell me it's a demon?”
“Something like that. I'll explain later.”
The Imp threw itself flat before Johan.
“I shall carry out this great task! I shall recite the Ominous Book and spread a requiem of destruction throughout this world!”
The Imp seemed to be misunderstanding something, but Johan did not bother correcting it.
He turned to Ilea.
“More importantly, you're a little heavy. I'd like you to let go now.”
Ilea had wrapped her arms around Johan's neck and leaned her weight against him.
‘To think she'd show her emotions this openly. She must have been quite frightened.’
She shared her life with Johan. If something happened to him, Ilea would not survive either.
Because of their entangled relationship, she could not help worrying about Johan's safety.
That was all Johan made of Ilea's uncharacteristically excessive reaction.
“I'm not heavy.”
Apparently having calmed down, Ilea quietly stepped away from Johan. Her voice was slightly curt.
“Fine. Next time you decide to jump at me, at least give me some warning. I thought you were attacking me.”
Johan snickered and replied jokingly. Ilea answered with a faint smile.
“Fine. Next time, have the sense to open your arms for me.”
“I wouldn't mind. As long as I'm not holding something like this.”
Johan raised and lowered both arms. The lump of flesh in his hands jiggled along with the leather collar.
The Great Saint's Intestines and an unidentified collar. Both were gifts from Garnish.
Ilea slowly examined the two objects. Her gaze had already grown calm again.
“...They're strange treasures that cannot even be appraised.”
Even with a Witch's eye, she could not easily guess their purpose.
“I received them from Apostle Garnish. Garnish said it wanted to help me.”
The moment Ilea heard Garnish's name, her pupils widened slightly.
She spoke with a serious expression.
“I think I'll need a more detailed explanation. What exactly happened inside?”
Johan calmly began explaining what had just occurred.
* * *
The Second Apostle Garnish was the sovereign of all things corrupted and the parent of decay. An Archdemon that ruled over polluted phenomena and objects, as well as corrupted flesh and minds. It was truly a transcendent being, but now it was nothing more than a defeated loser trapped in Narak.
After losing the Holy War five hundred years ago, it had been sealed in the deepest part of Narak.
It had been cut off from the world almost permanently. At present, Garnish could not intervene in the mortal realm.
That was how things were supposed to be in the original work.
Reality was somewhat different. Garnish had interacted with Johan, a being of the mortal realm. The original setting was breaking apart.
It was an extremely bewildering situation for Johan, but he was not as shaken as expected.
Recently, he had encountered far too many variables like this.
‘This world does not unfold as I expect.’
Rather than clinging to the original work, he needed to respond flexibly to the situation before him.
Johan calmly recounted his encounter with Garnish. As Ilea listened, she spoke.
“The crack is probably connected to the depths of Narak.”
“I think so too.”
Garnish could not leave Narak. To meet it, one had to descend into Narak.
Johan had met Garnish, which meant he had been to Narak. He had been summoned there through the crack.
Logically, that was the conclusion.
Ilea murmured as if deep in thought.
“...A crack connected to Narak. It is magically impossible, and there is no way to verify it at present.”
“It will be difficult to uncover the crack's nature or secrets right away.”
“Yes. We should take this slowly, step by step. First, the relationship between Garnish and Johan. Let's begin there.”
She looked at Johan with sparkling eyes, as if expecting something. But he had nothing more to offer.
“There has never been any point of contact between Garnish and me. Why it exists within that crack, what it is doing there, what it sees and hears, why it is helping me. Honestly, I do not know.”
Everything concerning the Second Apostle Garnish and the crack remained unknown.
Ilea nodded slowly.
“You have a phrase you always use, Johan. ‘My priorities are clear.’ It fits perfectly now. Let's start with the questions you just listed.”
Academic curiosity shone in her eyes. As expected of a Witch, the unknown excited her.
Johan only found it frustrating.
Raguel, who had been listening to their conversation, spoke in a small voice.
“...It sounds like a cliché from a novel.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
Johan spoke.
“Raguel, what did you say?”
“Ah, nothing. Please pretend you did not hear it.”
Ilea smiled gently.
“Young master, please speak freely. You said it sounds like a cliché from a novel?”
With everyone's attention on him, Raguel's face reddened.
Embarrassed, he scratched his head.
“It is just... you know those stories. A being with overwhelming power arranges a powerful figure in the world as a helper for their son, and the son receives that helper's assistance as he gradually approaches his hidden bloodline and secrets. Something like that common third-rate novel plot...”
The Imp, who had been listening with shining eyes, shouted.
“O Great End! Does that mean even the Second Apostle Garnish is merely your servant? Did the Source of All Demons truly conceive you?!”
Raguel spoke in a shrinking voice.
“...Please, everyone, forget I said anything.”
Johan snickered and ruffled Raguel's hair.
“You explained it well, so why are you shrinking back? What you said might actually be true.”
When Johan glanced at Ilea, she was taking Raguel's words far more seriously than expected.
“It is a good hypothesis. We should add it to the list.”
If things truly unfolded as Raguel guessed, Johan would be quite pleased. It would be an uncomplicated and straightforward development.
Still, one thought remained.
‘Could it really be that simple?’
Johan was uneasy. The circumstances surrounding him could spiral to extremes at any moment. Doubt and distrust always came before optimism.
Johan spoke.
“We will not reach a conclusion anytime soon, no matter how long we discuss it. Let's deal with the problem in front of us first. I will give each of you something to do.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Ilea, learn more about Garnish. If you find anything or notice something important, share it immediately.”
“Leave it to me.”
Johan turned to the Imp.
“I will give you your first mission.”
“O Great End! I shall carry out anything you command!”
“Go outside and bring back one vicious human. It must be the worst kind of human. Someone evil enough to have been abandoned by the Great Saint.”
He needed a living Sacrificial Offering to corrupt the sacred relic.
Johan planned to transplant the Great Saint's Intestines into the human brought by the Imp, then place that person atop the Corruptive Formation.
Holy Spear Espada would become an Abomination, and White Horn would be able to act again.
The Imp's eyes shone.
“Do not worry! I shall carry it out perfectly!”
Johan looked at Raguel.
“You will keep opening the Forbidden Archive whenever Ilea asks, whether it is day or night. Endure it even if you are tired.”
The Forbidden Archive contained many forbidden books that were not even permitted to be read. They would surely be a great help to Ilea as she investigated Garnish.
Raguel nodded.
“I have more stamina than you'd expect.”
For the first time in his life, he had been given a role. He looked somewhat pleased.
“I hope all of you will do your best. I will finish my business upstairs and return.”
After receiving their respective answers, Johan turned away.
Count Staviana's knights were waiting for him.
* * *
‘Kembell, Kembell...’
As Johan headed toward the reception room, the name of one of the two knights who had come to the castle kept circling through his mind.
Knight Kembell. He was certainly not a major character in the original work. If he had been a notable figure, Johan would have immediately remembered his role.
It felt as though the memory was just beyond reach.
‘That means he was mentioned in passing.’
Even Johan, an avid reader, could not remember every minor character in Inmarok. There were simply too many characters, and the original work did not explain every one of them in detail.
In other words, there was a high chance that Kembell had received some amount of focus.
His name had remained, however faintly, in Johan's memory.
Perhaps he had played a supporting role in a major event. It was probably a sound guess.
But that was all. Nothing more about Kembell came to mind.
‘It feels like a waste.’
Johan knew better than anyone the power of knowledge. How many benefits had he gained through information so far? It was regrettable that he could not use that advantage, especially in a matter involving Count Staviana.
After thinking until the very end, Johan grasped the doorknob.
Clicking his tongue, he entered the reception room.
The two knights were sipping tea.
The knight Maira stood the moment he saw Johan.
“You have returned sooner than expected. Have you finished your business?”
“You were waiting, so I handled it as quickly as possible. Thank you for your understanding.”
Maira shook his head with a friendly smile.
“Not at all. Naturally, we should be the ones waiting. We are only sorry for arriving without notice. Kembell also wishes to apologize for his earlier rudeness.”
As Maira finished speaking, Kembell rose from his seat.
Looking at Johan, he slowly lifted his visor.
As more of his face was revealed, Johan's expression gradually changed.
From blankness to surprise, then finally to the faintest hint of a smile.
‘Kembell the Blasphemer!’
The moment Johan saw the scars, information about him filled his mind.
A weak human being tightly bound by guilt, shame, trauma, and self-pity stood before Johan.
‘The Count has thrown prey before me.’
Demons were beings that preyed upon weakness. The deeper a person's mental deficiencies, the more demons rejoiced in that abyss.
Kembell was a choice spot.
Johan's mouth stretched into a smile. Though human, he smiled like a demon.
His voice carried a restrained chill.
“Why were you hiding such honorable scars?”
Kembell's pupils shook for an instant. He was deeply unsettled.
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