The answer was unsettling—so unsettling that no one could have imagined such an outcome.
"About the matter of the Sacred Coffin… I understand now. What a tremendous trouble it is."
Arthur let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon him.
Lloyd pushed the wheelchair forward as they walked through the vast underground tunnel. Thanks to the relentless labor of the ventilation fans, the air had improved considerably. It still carried a strange mixture of odors—metal, damp earth, and something far harder to name—but at the very least, it was air that human lungs could endure.
Dim lights hung overhead, stretching along the railway tracks until they vanished into the far edge of sight. Beside them ran intricate steam pipes. Years of neglect had taken their toll; beads of condensed water dripped steadily from the rusted metal, soaking patches of the muddy ground below.
"This isn't merely trouble, Arthur. The entirety of Old Dunling is now in danger."
Lloyd spoke as calmly as he could.
If the demonic corruption were to erupt within the city walls, the dense population of Old Dunling would make containment impossible. Conventional firepower would never suppress the tide of demons. Only by detonating the Pillar of the Furnace—burying the entire city beneath the earth—might such a catastrophe be halted.
"Hmm… Do you know what exactly lies inside the Sacred Coffin?"
After a long silence, Arthur asked slowly.
In that moment, the qualities of a leader surfaced within him. Thoughts and strategies surged rapidly through his mind, colliding and reshaping themselves. Yet beneath them all lurked a private frustration—why, of all generations, had so many calamities chosen his?
"A demon. The final demon. According to Medanzo, it is a demon that embodies the very concept of 'demon.' You could say that if it were killed, the concept itself would vanish from the world. Demons… would cease to exist."
Lloyd answered.
Those words had been spoken to him on the Night of Holy Descent. The man crowned with the name of an angel had always been dependable in that way—his certainty carried a strange, reassuring weight.
"And what form does it take exactly, Mr. Holmes? Is it a human? An object? A beastly demon? Surely something must have a shape."
Arthur showed no surprise at the notion of a conceptual entity. It was as though he had expected something of the sort. Instead, he pressed further.
Lloyd paused.
Only then did he realize he had never once considered that question.
"I don't know. The ritual to deal with it was held on the Day of Nativity. Only demon hunters bearing the names of angels were permitted to attend. I merely guarded the outside of the cathedral."
It had been a grand execution. Even the bitter winter night had been warmed by the boiling fervor of the cathedral.
"So even you don't know what truly lies within it."
Lloyd nodded in silence.
"Then tell me, Mr. Holmes—why are you so certain? Why is the Gospel Church so certain that killing that demon—killing that Grail—would erase the concept of demons entirely?"
Arthur's question shifted suddenly to another angle.
"As far as I know, the Church's knowledge of demons comes from the Book of Gospels and the Book of Revelation, correct? Which means the record must exist in those texts."
He spoke like a man who already knew the answer, maintaining a chilling composure.
For a moment, Lloyd didn't know how to respond.
But Arthur continued.
"Mr. Holmes, the Purge Agency has encountered far more mysteries than you might imagine. To fight demons, we conduct countless experiments and controls. In fact, one of our guiding principles is to make everything… understandable."
"Corruption. Demons. We translate them into technology and equations that can be grasped. Like Geiger counters… like frontal lobotomies."
He paused before continuing.
"Let me ask you something else. What do you think is the most important thing for a religion to survive?"
Arthur looked directly into Lloyd's eyes.
Though he was a man barely recovered from death, his gaze was sharp as a drawn blade—so sharp it felt as if it might cleave through Lloyd's confusion itself.
"Faith…"
"No. Ignorance."
Arthur's reply was immediate.
"Only the ignorance of the masses can uphold myths riddled with holes. Mr. Holmes, strip away the mystical language of religion, and you will find the essence of all Secret Blood technology is science. Pure science."
Arthur coughed violently, pain from his wounds still tormenting him. Yet the lightning in his eyes tightened its hold on Lloyd. Lloyd found himself unable to look away, forced to meet that gaze head-on.
"So when we fight demons, what do we rely upon?"
"Reason. Isn't that right?"
Arthur spoke quickly. His voice remained calm, yet every word struck like a roll of distant thunder.
"And yet, Mr. Holmes… placing your faith in some vague and intangible god—can that truly be called rational?"
Those words were pure heresy.
Had this been centuries earlier, Arthur would not merely face the flames of the Michaelite demon hunters. He would have been dragged to the Cathedral of Saint Naro, where the Pope himself would light the purifying fire.
"Mr. Holmes, I can tell—you're not a believer. Those outdated doctrines never managed to suffocate your thinking. That's why I'm telling you this."
He chuckled softly.
"Fanatics are troublesome people. When Inervig first introduced the steam engine, they claimed it was a device of the devil—said it trapped the souls of the unfortunate and forced them to labor for us."
Arthur smiled with clear disdain.
"That's why we've never gotten along with the Gospel Church. Religion requires ignorance among the lower classes to survive… while Inervig seeks to spread the brilliance of technology across every inch of land."
Arthur had already seen through everything.
Lloyd was a soldier.
Arthur was the general orchestrating the entire battlefield.
"The old era is over. The new one cannot be stopped. If the Holy Evangelical Papal State wishes to reclaim control of the Western world, it must destroy Inervig soon. Otherwise the advance of steam technology will only keep crushing ignorance beneath its wheels."
"Sometimes I'm almost grateful for the Night of Holy Descent. If that event hadn't crippled the Church so badly, we would have gone to war within these past few years."
"War would have been inevitable."
"A world war… is that it?"
Lloyd felt a quiet pressure building in his chest.
"Don't trouble yourself with that, Mr. Holmes. That's not your concern."
Arthur gestured for Lloyd to stop.
The two of them stood within the dim tunnel. Looking forward or back, all that stretched before them was endless gray.
"The only force capable of fully supporting you now is the Purge Agency. I believe we've built enough trust between us, haven't we?"
He met Lloyd's gaze, revealing his true intention.
"This is a mutually beneficial cooperation. But first, I need to know what truly happened on the Night of Holy Descent. Is that acceptable?"
"Only by understanding the full picture can the machine called the Purge Agency begin to roar."
A single man's strength had limits. Without the Agency's help, Lloyd would have been killed by Father Lawrence long ago. He could not wage this battle alone forever.
"But the Grail is involved. Its corruption is extremely potent…"
Lloyd shook his head. He was still reluctant.
That night remained buried deep in Lloyd's heart.
A night of vengeance that belonged to him alone.
"It spreads through words, doesn't it?"
Arthur cut him off immediately.
As the head of the Purge Agency, his knowledge of demons was nearly equal to Lloyd's.
"Then simply choose your words carefully, Mr. Holmes. Leave out the parts we cannot hear."
Arthur stared at him intently.
They were the same kind of people. Desperate men all—lone wolves who, gathered together, might yet become a pack.
From the far end of the tunnel came the screaming cry of iron.
A steel beast approached along the rails. The tracks trembled softly beneath its weight before the machine finally slowed to a halt amid a roaring gust of wind.
The doors of the steam subway slid open.
When the drifting steam cleared, a gray-robed figure emerged.
"Merlin is the greatest alchemist I have ever known."
Arthur's voice flowed through the tunnel.
"You don't mind one more listener, do you?"
The figure lifted his hood.
Merlin smiled faintly at Lloyd.