"Mr. Lloyd Holmes!"
The man called out, making no attempt to attack. He simply stood at the entrance to the wine cellar, patiently waiting for Lloyd to arrive.
Lloyd kept a safe distance between them. The Demon Hunter stood against the light, leaving Lloyd unable to make out his face.
"Don't worry. I haven't told anyone else that you're here. It's rare to have a moment of solitude like this, and I'd rather not have anyone interrupt us."
The Demon Hunter spoke in an unhurried tone. He drew a perfectly intact nail sword and tossed it toward Lloyd.
After the fierce battle, Lloyd's weapons had suffered varying degrees of wear and damage. He hesitated for a moment as he stared at the nail sword embedded in the ground before him. When he had faced the New Pope earlier, the man had done the same thing. This Demon Hunter wanted a fair fight—a duel between equals.
Lloyd picked up the nail sword and looked at him in confusion.
"That goes against your orders."
"Just a little abuse of public authority for private purposes," the Demon Hunter replied.
"What are you trying to do?"
Lloyd tightened his grip around the nail sword. The Demon Hunter was blocking the exit. Clearly, he had no intention of letting Lloyd escape.
"After all, you're a 'senior.' One of the few seniors we have left. I'm very confident in myself, but whenever Father speaks of people like you, there's always a trace of fear in his voice. I want to know exactly where the difference between us lies."
As he spoke, the Demon Hunter took several steps forward, finally entering the wine cellar completely.
"You're not even trying to hide your identity?"
The moment Lloyd heard him mention the Father, he could be certain. These men were indeed forces belonging to the New Church. But this was Old Dunling. How could the Purification Bureau possibly allow the New Church to operate here so freely?
Unless this was a hidden force, one the Purification Bureau knew nothing about.
No… then how had they obtained the information about this location?
Only the Purification Bureau knew Shelmans' whereabouts. If the Purification Bureau had leaked the information, these Demon Hunters could not possibly be the only ones here. The Knights should have come as well.
That letter…
The letter had not only been sent to Lloyd. The New Church had received one too.
Besides the Purification Bureau, there was one other person who knew Shelmans' location. That person had given the information to both Lloyd and the New Church, deliberately drawing them here.
In such a short span of time, Lloyd had received far too many pieces of information worth pondering. Yet he maintained an outward calm, silently reconstructing the sequence of events in his mind.
He turned his head slightly and glanced toward Shelmans, who was leaning against the wall. Shelmans had one hand gripping Yager. It seemed Yager wanted to take him and flee through another door, but Shelmans was stubbornly insisting on waiting for Lloyd.
Could it be Migael?
The leader of the Exiles, one of the Cardinals. Had he abandoned Shelmans?
There was no time left for Lloyd to verify his suspicions. After a brief moment of thought, he said,
"It's too cramped in here."
"No, no. It has to be here."
The Demon Hunter wagged a finger, then leaned forward slightly and glanced past Lloyd toward Shelmans.
"Even if I'm abusing my authority for private purposes, I still have official business to attend to. I need to keep him within my sight."
The hand Lloyd had concealed at his side slowly relaxed. He then asked,
"That's not the only reason, is it?"
"Of course not. I took a quick look at those three bodies. There are clear signs of intense burning. But your Authority isn't Michael. And if it were Michael, they wouldn't have burned like that."
The Demon Hunter was extremely cautious, like a true hunter. Before beginning his hunt, he had already studied his prey in meticulous detail.
"A weapon capable of producing such intense flames?"
"Something like that."
Lloyd released the black antimatter throwing knife in his hand. In this enclosed wine cellar, he could not use the weapon. It might restrain the enemy, perhaps even cripple him, but Shelmans behind him would never survive.
Lloyd raised the nail sword. The tip dipped slightly downward.
There was no need for further words.
At the other end of the cellar, the Demon Hunter assumed the same stance.
"Just to prove that you're stronger than me? That's childish," Lloyd said.
"How could it be? There's nothing childish about it…" The Demon Hunter replied. "I suppose I'm a rather arrogant man."
"Oh? Is that so?"
The two men watched each other warily. The atmosphere was murderous and oppressive.
"But more than that, it's unbearable. This so-called Secret Blood…" The Demon Hunter's voice remained calm. "It's like a door. Once you've glimpsed what lies beyond it, you can never forget the sight. After that, simply living in this mediocre world becomes a form of torment."
As he spoke, seemingly relaxed in conversation, he suddenly lunged.
His sword flashed.
Unlike the Demon Hunters Lloyd had fought before, he did not rush to unleash his Authority, nor did he crudely force his Secret Blood into greater activity. Instead, he fought like an ordinary man, exchanging blows with Lloyd and searching for openings with every swing of his sword.
And in that instant, Lloyd's gaze changed slightly.
He had once believed that every member of the New Church was nothing more than a puppet controlled by power.
But this Demon Hunter was different.
He understood very clearly that he could not rely on those things.
The razor-sharp nail swords crossed, and an instant later, a piercing metallic clang rang through the cellar. It looked like an ordinary sword fight, but the swordsmen wielding those blades were Demon Hunters. Their bestial strength transformed every movement into something lethal, scattering sparks with every violent collision.
"Do you think becoming a Demon Hunter makes you different from ordinary humans? That it makes you superior?" Lloyd asked.
He swung his sword with all his strength, yet no effective attack emerged. As Demon Hunters, both of them had been trained in Bolognese swordsmanship. They were like opposing mirrors, each intimately familiar with the other's techniques.
"But in a way, that's exactly what we are," Lloyd continued. "We possess strength and physiques far beyond ordinary people. Our lifespans are vastly longer. If not for the hidden danger of the Secret Blood, we would practically be…"
He paused.
"Demigods."
From this perspective, it was indeed true. Demon Hunters were a higher form of humanity, beings capable of wielding supernatural Authority.
"I just happen to like it," the Demon Hunter said. "Just as some people love money, some love power, and some love women. Everyone needs something to live for, don't they?"
Suddenly, his attack changed.
His swordsmanship was no longer Bolognese.
It became something else entirely.
Lloyd immediately sensed the danger.
He had been lulled into complacency.
The blade came stabbing from an extremely treacherous angle. Lloyd twisted away with all his strength, but he was still cut.
"We're both strange people. I can see it, Lloyd Holmes. There's a certain feeling you get when you meet someone of your own kind."
The Demon Hunter stopped attacking. He raised his blade, his eyes settling upon the bright crimson blood.
"I know someone who enjoys watching other people go mad. Strange hobby, isn't it? But to him, there's nothing more beautiful in the world. If he hadn't gotten himself into some trouble, he would have been the one here today."
"And you?"
"Me?"
The Demon Hunter paused.
Then he slowly raised the nail sword, holding the entire blade before himself like a shield.
"I like killing. Or rather, I like the victory that comes after killing. That's why I studied swordsmanship and joined the Holy Knights. If I hadn't learned about the Secret Blood, I probably would have devoted myself to becoming the commander of the Holy Knights, then launched another Eastern Crusade someday."
"No matter what kind of victory it is, nothing can compare to winning a war, can it?"
Lloyd stared at the Demon Hunter with a complicated expression.
He had no profound realization whatsoever.
He simply felt that the world seemed to be producing more and more lunatics.
"When I first met you, I thought you were a relatively amiable person," Lloyd said.
"Is that a compliment?" the Demon Hunter asked. "I think I'm rather handsome."
"Perhaps."
Lloyd stared at the Demon Hunter before him, and at last, he retrieved the man's identity from his memories.
Although he had only seen him once, during that previous conversation, Lloyd remembered him.
Father Anthony's second-in-command.
"Samur."
Hearing his own name, Samur looked slightly surprised. He had not expected Lloyd to remember him.
But at that very moment, Lloyd attacked.
This had never been a simple conversation.
Even while they talked, both men had been searching for weaknesses. A reaction delayed by even the smallest fraction of a second could mean death.
And when Lloyd called Samur by name, Samur had visibly wavered.
It was an almost imperceptible fluctuation.
But Lloyd caught it.
The flesh and blood of the Holy Grail had been fused into Lloyd's body. After his rebirth, his strength and physique had become far greater than those of an ordinary Demon Hunter.
And it seemed he himself had yet to fully realize just how powerful he had become.
He stepped forward.
The nail sword swept over his head, rising high before crashing down with tremendous force.
The power to shatter stone descended upon Samur.
Their blades collided.
Samur did not attempt to meet Lloyd's strike head-on. The howling wind alone was enough to tell him how tremendous Lloyd's strength was. In a pure contest of power, Samur knew he could not match him.
So he simply followed the momentum of Lloyd's blade.
He tilted his sword, diverting the descending trajectory, then immediately raised his own weapon.
That was the essence of deflection—evade the attack while instantly launching a counterattack.
Samur's sword began to accelerate.
At the instant their blades crossed, his sword struck like thunder.
Sword duels between true swordsmen were often incredibly brief. With nerves stretched to their absolute limit, the moment either side relaxed or exposed an opening, the next strike would be fatal.
Their duel seemed to have only just begun.
In truth, it had already ended the instant Lloyd swung his sword.
Samur's blade crashed viciously into Lloyd's neck.
A trace of disappointment appeared in his eyes, as though he had not expected Lloyd to be so ordinary after all.
Then—
A violent metallic clang rang through the cellar.
Something had stopped the descending blade.
The tattered fabric of Lloyd's clothing tore apart, revealing a thin layer of black, hardened material beneath.
"Divine Armor…"
Samur had made a mistake.
Lloyd had activated his Authority from the very beginning.
Only this time, the Divine Armor had not covered him so obviously. He had deliberately concealed it, waiting for Samur to take the bait.
And at that moment, a piercing shriek tore through the air.
From the corner of his eye, Samur saw it.
The reversed blade came sweeping toward him, wrapped in blinding white heat.
"Courage. Strength. Skill…"
Lloyd spoke softly.
"And cunning."
The deflected blade accelerated in an instant, slashing diagonally toward Samur.
It was a movement no ordinary human could perform.
After unleashing a full-power strike, there was simply no way a human swordsman could retract and redirect his blade so quickly.
Unless…
That overwhelming strike just now had not been Lloyd's full strength?
Samur's heart sank.
The battle of wits had begun the moment their eyes first met.
Only now did he begin to understand what Father Anthony had meant.
But then Samur's expression hardened into something ferocious.
At this point, all he could do was minimize his losses.
He tightened his grip on the nail sword and slashed toward the gap beneath Lloyd's Divine Armor.
At most, Lloyd's counterattack would strike his abdomen. It might severely wound him, but with the body of a Demon Hunter, as long as the injury was not immediately fatal, he could continue fighting.
Lloyd was different.
Samur's blade was already buried against his neck. If he continued to press down and broke through the Divine Armor, he might not be able to sever Lloyd's head, but he could certainly inflict a fatal wound.
The corner of Samur's mouth twisted into an ugly smile.
It was like a game of rock-paper-scissors.
Would Lloyd ignore his attack and continue pursuing the kill?
Or would he defend himself and abandon his own attack?
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
Lloyd could feel the increasing pressure against his neck.
Yet he had no intention of defending.
His nail sword swept through the air, crimson blood spraying as it tore through everything in its path.
A shrill cry rang out.
A horrifying wound ripped open along Samur's flank, as though some enormous beast had raked him with its claws.
The wound extended all the way to his chest.
From bottom to top, it nearly split his entire torso open.
At the same time, Samur's sword broke through the Divine Armor.
To keep it concealed, the armor had been made slightly thinner. Under the force of Samur's strike, it split apart, and the nail sword sank into Lloyd's flesh.
This was a sword fight between monsters.
Both men bore terrifying wounds, yet both stubbornly maintained their grip on their swords, standing upon the earth like statues carved from stone.
Blood dripped from their blades.
"You're really strong…"
After a long silence, Samur finally spoke.
He covered his abdomen with one hand. Lloyd's strike had nearly torn his stomach open, and he desperately held the wound together to prevent his organs from spilling out.
Lloyd tilted his head.
Samur's blade had cut through the Divine Armor and buried itself in his flesh.
Samur had done everything right.
But he had forgotten about the Silver Binding Spike within Lloyd's body.
The sacred metal seemed almost alive. It grew along the Demon Hunter's spine, restraining them while simultaneously protecting them.
And more importantly, at the final moment, Lloyd had raised his hand.
Everything had happened too quickly. Even Lloyd could only barely raise his arm in an attempt to stop the strike.
The nail sword had not only pierced his neck.
It had also cut into his arm.
"Technique and actual combat are two different things."
Lloyd and Samur stared at each other for a brief moment.
Then Lloyd knocked the blade away.
Samur immediately moved as well, launching another attack.
Yager watched the scene with a deathly pale face.
This was no longer something human beings could do.
And yet they were still fighting.
As Lloyd swung his sword, the Divine Armor began to spread across his body.
He allowed Samur's blade to strike him.
There was no longer any reason to hide anything.
He had already taken complete control of the situation.
Samur had, in fact, remained constantly wary of Lloyd's Divine Armor. But under Lloyd's cunning deception, he had no way to break through it.
He could only struggle to defend himself.
Then Lloyd's blade pierced through his arm.
It was not an attack intended to maximize damage.
Samur had one hand clamped over his abdomen, while his other arm had now been impaled by Lloyd's sword. The blade had lodged itself in the joint.
The pain was excruciating.
And like a shackle, it restricted Samur's movements.
The next instant, the barrel of a shotgun was pressed directly into the hideous wound in his abdomen.
Lloyd's eyes were utterly cold.
He pulled the trigger.
The Dragonbreath round detonated at point-blank range.
The explosion occurred inside Samur's body.
Scorching heat instantly flooded his internal organs. Blood poured from his ears and nose under the immense pressure.
Then brilliant sparks of white-hot light began to spill from the wound.
Samur seemed to lose every last trace of strength.
His body slowly collapsed.
It had been a devastating blow.
Lloyd did not even bother to look back.
He immediately headed toward Shelmans.
They needed to leave.
Fast.
"I have an idea for escaping. The chances of success aren't great, but it's still better than staying here."
As he spoke, Lloyd grabbed Shelmans and hauled him to his feet.
"You can't die yet, old man."
Shelmans knew far more than Lloyd had anticipated.
The plan had changed.
Lloyd had to find a way to get Shelmans out of here alive.
His attention then shifted toward Yager.
Yager stared at Lloyd in terror.
He had known that Demon Hunters existed, but he had never imagined they could be this absurd.
The horrifying wounds across Lloyd's body were already healing before his very eyes as his Secret Blood awakened.
It was practically an immortal body.
"Take Shelmans and get out first. I'll deal with Samur."
Lloyd handed Shelmans over to Yager.
He was a cautious man.
Samur had suffered such severe injuries that Lloyd needed to make absolutely certain he was completely incapacitated.
But just then, a voice rang out.
"Wait a moment. I'm not down yet."
Along with the voice came a sticky, grotesque sound.
It was like mud squelching through a foul-smelling swamp.
Pale bones writhed within the mess.
Countless maggots crawled and gnawed across the remnants of the corpse.
For an instant, it seemed as though every sin and every evil in the world had gathered in this single place.
Lloyd slowly turned his head.
The shattered body was slowly getting back to its feet.
Like a demon being born into the world.
Countless red threads extended from the flesh.
They seemed to be some kind of living tissue fibers, stitching the wounds together like needle and thread.
A pair of blazing white eyes fixed upon Lloyd.
In the span of only a few breaths, bones were forced back into place beneath the pressure of newly formed muscle. Hardened tissue began to grow and regenerate.
Samur picked up the intestines scattered across the floor and, with an utterly grotesque motion, stuffed them back into the gaping wound.
It was as though time itself were flowing backward.
The final wound was stitched shut by those crimson threads.
Then Samur raised his nail sword once more.
"Round two, Mr. Lloyd Holmes."
Lloyd's heart sank.
He knew exactly what he had encountered.
This battle was about to become extraordinarily difficult.
There was no need for further words.
The next instant, the two figures collided.
Their swordsmanship reached its absolute limit.
A flash of white light swept through the darkness.
The nail sword struck Samur, severing the arm that had only just regenerated.
The blood-soaked limb was hurled high into the air.
But before it could even fall, slender red threads connected it to Samur.
Like fishing line being rapidly reeled in, they pulled the severed limb back toward him.
At the same moment, Samur's sword struck Lloyd once more.
The blade scraped against the Divine Armor, throwing off a shower of sparks.
The two figures crossed.
Then retreated.
They kept a safe distance between them.
Lloyd's expression grew solemn.
A faint unease settled in his heart.
"What a troublesome Authority…"
"I think it's pretty useful," Samur replied. "It just hurts a little."
His blazing white eyes stared at the knight clad in iron.
The severed limb had already regenerated.
Perhaps this was what true immortality looked like.
No matter how many times he was struck by a sword, no matter how intense the flames became, he would always return from death, carrying iron and blood with him as he continued the fight.
Authority: Anar.