It was a strange sensation—one Lloyd could neither explain nor truly understand. Yet he felt it with unmistakable clarity. A blaze of anger erupted deep within him, not directed at Anthony or anyone else, but at something far more elusive. It was the fury of a man who had been toyed with, the maddening certainty that something vital had been stolen from his memory. No matter how desperately he searched, he could not recall it, and that helplessness burned hotter than any rage.
"So you're saying... I'm... Medanzo?"
Lloyd stared at Anthony, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His gaze swept across every face in the room. Then, just as suddenly as the fire had ignited, it froze into icy stillness.
Arthur. Merlin. Every one of them.
They all looked at him with the same expression Anthony wore—a mixture of pity and sorrow, as though Lloyd were nothing more than a pathetic soul who had spent his entire life deceiving himself.
"Medanzo is dead. He died on the Night of Holy Descent. I am Lloyd Holmes, Demon Hunter Number 042!"
He had meant to roar the words with every ounce of strength he possessed, but when they left his lips, they sounded hollow, fragile.
Everything had happened too quickly. There had been no time to prepare.
"Why continue lying?" Anthony asked, his voice calm, almost merciless. "The longer you conceal the truth, the worse your situation becomes, Mr. Holmes."
He questioned Lloyd like a judge examining a bewildered sinner.
"Your true identity is Number 047—the Demon Hunter known as Medanzo. During the Night of Holy Descent, you seized the False Holy Grail and escaped the Holy Gospel Papal State. After arriving in Old Dunling, you continued operating under the name Lloyd Holmes."
"No. I'm 042."
For reasons even he couldn't understand, Lloyd lost all composure the moment his identity was challenged. Gone was the cunning swindler who always twisted words to his advantage. Gone was the calculating liar who could deceive friend and foe alike.
Instead, he resembled a fanatic clinging desperately to his faith.
"I'm 042."
He repeated it stubbornly, as though the words themselves possessed magic—as though saying them often enough could transform fiction into reality.
"I'm afraid your deception ends here, Mr. Holmes," Anthony continued with unwavering confidence. "042 never existed. He was nothing more than the mask you created to deceive everyone around you. An ingenious fabrication. Within your own story, you succeeded in staging your own death, allowing yourself to continue living as Number 042."
Lloyd locked eyes with Anthony.
He had faced oceans of demons without fear. He had stood against Archbishop Lawrence, an enemy beyond reason. He had survived the nightmare known as the Night of Holy Descent itself.
None of those had frightened him.
But this...
This terrified him.
Something was trying to crawl out from inside him.
From his stomach. From his heart. From the deepest recesses of his mind.
Invisible hands clawed upward from places no one could ever see, struggling desperately to tear themselves free from the prison of his flesh.
From memories he had buried.
From truths he had chosen to forget.
"...042 doesn't exist?"
Lloyd—or perhaps the man called 042—looked at Anthony with confusion, fear, and a growing sense of dread.
"Exactly as I said," Anthony replied. "042 never existed."
With that simple sentence, he denied not merely a number...
...but Lloyd's very existence.
"In truth, this conversation has been planned for a long time. You survived the Night of Holy Descent. You possess the False Holy Grail. That makes you dangerous—dangerous in ways even we don't fully understand. So before confronting you, we prepared everything necessary to convince you... or at least allow you to speak with us rationally."
Another folder slid onto the table.
Lloyd had been their target all along.
"This is the registry of the Demon Hunters, along with official mission records." Anthony tapped the documents. "According to every surviving record... there has never been a Demon Hunter numbered 042. More precisely, the Order never assigned that number. Demon Hunter 042 has never existed."
The aged pages slid across the polished tabletop. Their yellowed edges betrayed their age. They had all been written before the Night of Holy Descent.
They could not have been forged.
"...You're saying I don't exist?"
Lloyd's voice trembled.
"No," Anthony corrected coldly. "You exist. As Number 047. Medanzo."
"That's impossible... Impossible! I'm 042... I..."
His eyes desperately searched the documents for something—anything—that could prove he was right.
There was nothing.
Arthur remained silent throughout.
When Lloyd finally looked up, panic filled his face.
It was the first time Arthur had ever seen him like this.
Like a beast trapped inside an iron cage, throwing itself again and again against unbreakable bars.
"I... Valley of Terror... 016 and 011..."
He clutched at the memory like a drowning man grasping driftwood.
"You mean the Valley of Terror operation?" Anthony answered immediately. "It's on the second page. Participants: 047, 011, 016. No 042."
Anthony had anticipated every argument.
Lloyd hurriedly turned to the page.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
His own.
Even after all this time, he recognized every stroke.
It was his mission report.
Only one thing had changed.
Where he remembered writing "042"...
The record now read "047."
No...
That wasn't right.
He existed.
042 existed.
He himself was proof.
Frantically, he flipped through every page.
Nothing.
No matter how many times he searched, no matter how desperately he rearranged every possibility in his mind...
There wasn't a single trace of Number 042.
"Still pretending?" Anthony pressed. "Mr. Holmes, your lie has already been exposed."
"No! It's fake! I'm 042! Lloyd Holmes! Medanzo is dead! I watched him die with my own eyes!"
Lloyd finally exploded.
A brilliant silver light flickered within his eyes.
The moment everyone saw it, the atmosphere turned deathly tense.
The man before them was no ordinary cornered animal.
He was Lloyd Holmes—the Demon Hunter who had survived the Night of Holy Descent, bearer of the impossible False Holy Grail.
If he chose violence...
The room might become a battlefield in the next heartbeat.
"Calm down, Lloyd."
Arthur finally spoke.
"So what happens now?" Lloyd demanded, suspicion filling every word. "You'll arrest me? Dissect me while I'm still breathing?"
Perhaps because his identity had become the center of everything...
For the first time, Lloyd had completely lost the composure that always defined him.
"We only wanted to confirm whether the False Holy Grail is truly inside you," Arthur answered firmly before softening his tone. "Lloyd... cooperation begins with trust. The Cleansing Agency doesn't care about your past. You're still one of us. If the Gospel Church declares war on you, then it declares war on us as well."
Lloyd drew a long breath, forcing himself to calm down.
Then agony exploded inside his skull.
It felt as though invisible hands were prying his head apart.
"But you concealed the False Holy Grail," Arthur continued. "According to Anthony, it was born from the Night of Holy Descent. Almost everyone involved died that night. Even now, the Gospel Church doesn't fully understand what it can do."
"It's dangerous."
"So what do you want?"
"We want your cooperation. We intend to contain that danger."
Arthur slowly raised a finger...
...and pointed directly at Lloyd.
"Or rather..."
"You."
"No... wait."
Unexpectedly, it was Anthony who interrupted.
He stared at Lloyd for several long seconds before asking quietly,
"Lloyd Holmes... let me ask you something again."
Those cold eyes reflected Lloyd's face with unsettling clarity.
"Who do you believe you are?"
"Number 042."
The answer came without hesitation.
Silence followed.
Anthony sighed.
The pity returned to his eyes.
"So... you're not lying to us."
Those words pierced Lloyd more deeply than any blade.
An unbearable chill spread through his body.
"...What do you mean?"
"It isn't deception," Anthony said softly. "You genuinely believe you're Number 042 instead of 047. You believe that 047—the person you truly are—died."
The conclusion struck the room like thunder.
Lloyd's mind went completely blank.
"His sense of self is fractured?" Merlin murmured.
"For some reason," Anthony continued, "Medanzo... Number 047... convinced himself he was a nonexistent Demon Hunter designated 042. Once he accepted that identity, 042—Lloyd Holmes—began believing his original self was someone else... someone who died during the Night of Holy Descent."
"No..." Lloyd shook his head violently. "What are you talking about? I am 042! I'm standing right here! Isn't that proof enough?"
"But you're 047!"
Anthony's voice cracked like a whip.
"Look at these records! We collected everything before this meeting—from the day you entered the Gospel Church as a child to the Night of Holy Descent itself. Every document, every report, every photograph tells one complete story."
"The life of Demon Hunter Number 047."
"According to your own account," Anthony continued, "042 and 047 were friends, and 042 was Medanzo himself. But none of these records mention any such person. The Order never assigned Number 042."
"So you're saying..."
Lloyd slowly stood.
"...I'm insane?"
"I imagined myself into another person?"
"A person who never existed?"
"Isn't that exactly what's happened, 047?"
Anthony's answer was merciless.
"The evidence is right there."
He gestured toward the scattered photographs.
Each one showed the same boy at different ages.
Together, they formed an entire lifetime.
A child growing into a man.
A man now questioning whether any of it had ever belonged to him.
"If you truly believe you're 042..." Anthony asked coldly, "...then tell me."
"What were you doing during the Night of Holy Descent?"
The nightmare.
The night Lloyd could never forget.
The night that had overturned his entire life.
The night he remembered killing Medanzo...
...and claiming the forbidden False Holy Grail.
"When the Stillness Cathedral lost control... Medanzo guarded Heaven's Gate, holding back the demons trying to break through... while I..."
His voice stopped.
"...I..."
An invisible hand seemed to seize his heart.
His anger vanished.
His confusion vanished.
Only fear remained.
Not fear of death.
Fear of his own existence.
His entire life.
His memories.
His convictions.
Had they all been nothing more than the delusion of a madman?
"Answer me, 042."
Anthony deliberately emphasized the number.
"I..."
Lloyd slowly raised a trembling hand and covered half his face.
The memories he had refused to confront...
The memories he had buried...
Were ripped open without mercy.
"I was clearing the remaining demons inside the Seven Hills... Then I rendezvoused with Medanzo after he broke out of the Stillness Cathedral..."
"But every Demon Hunter bearing the name Medanzo remained outside Saint Naro Cathedral," Anthony interrupted. "When the Night of Holy Descent began, they all stayed together defending Heaven's Gate."
"So why were you alone?"
Before the undeniable truth...
Lloyd's story collapsed piece by piece.
"What if it's a split personality?"
Percival suddenly spoke, her cheerful voice sounding strangely out of place amid the oppressive silence.
"The False Holy Grail... or perhaps something else... created another personality. 047 split into someone called 042... and 042 killed 047."
"Percival."
Gawain's stern warning cut her off.
"I'm only saying it's possible," she muttered. "We've seen countless cases like this at Black Mountain Hospital. Corruption does strange things..."
She finally fell silent beneath Gawain's glare.
Yet no one could deny the possibility.
Nothing Lloyd had said felt like deliberate deception.
He truly believed he was someone else.
"Answer me, 042."
Anthony refused to relent.
"Then explain one more thing."
"You claim you killed Medanzo."
"So why are you still wearing his Silver Shackles?"
The room fell silent.
Lloyd stared blankly.
"...Silver Shackles?"
"As a Demon Hunter, you know what they do," Anthony said. "They don't merely restrain your power. Through the Stillness Cathedral, they allow us to track your location whenever your corruption exceeds the critical threshold."
Out of the corner of his eye, Anthony watched Arthur's reaction before continuing.
"A few days ago, the Cathedral detected a response from the Silver Shackles belonging to Number 047."
"The signal came from northern Old Dunling."
"If you truly killed 047..."
"...how do you explain that?"
He gave Lloyd no opportunity to answer.
Then came the final blow.
"You know perfectly well..."
"The Silver Shackles cannot be removed."
The priest completed the final prayer.
As grieving families looked on, the last shovelful of earth fell upon the coffin marked 042.
Number 047 stood frozen where he was.
Speechless.
The beautiful dream had shattered.
Only the cruel truth remained.
"Medanzo..."
Anthony looked upon the veteran Demon Hunter with genuine pity.
"The False Holy Grail corrupted you."
"You've wandered inside this madness for so long..."
"...that even this unbearable nightmare became your reality."