Borgia.
Lloyd remembered the name. It belonged to that infamous Duke of Poison, a family that had risen before the Golden Age and once controlled the Evangelical Church through poison and murder. Yet they had been born from poison, and in the end, they perished by poison as well.
He had never imagined that Shalmanes was a descendant of the Borgias. And unlike his cruel ancestors, Shalmanes was a truly devout believer.
The explosion sent a scorching blast of firestorm rolling through the sealed wine cellar. Samuel's twisted mass of flesh had been near the doorway, and the force of the Dark Antimony blast hurled him straight out through it. Only after several dozen seconds, when the chaos had finally begun to settle, did Lloyd slowly rise to his feet and survey the devastation around him.
Agony filled every inch of his body. Thin streams of blood trickled from the tip of his nose. Because of the explosion, Cantarella's poison had seeped into Lloyd to some degree as well. It was an awful sensation, as though countless maggots were crawling through his veins, gnawing at his flesh from within.
This poison was a secret formula of the Borgia family, a deadly toxin capable of killing a "human." Because of its terrifying potency, it would later be used against witch hunters. Witch hunters were not pure demons, after all; there was still a human part within them, and this poison was designed specifically to exploit the weakness of mortal flesh.
"Shalmanes!"
Lloyd shouted. Among the charred wreckage, he found Shalmanes still barely breathing. With considerable effort, he hauled the old man upright. Shalmanes managed to open his eyes and glance at Lloyd before immediately coughing up a mouthful of blood.
"Not bad, old man. I thought you'd be blown to pieces."
Lloyd spoke lightly, but Shalmanes had no strength left for idle banter. He merely asked weakly, "Is he dead?"
"Probably not. It was Authority: Janal, after all. But he shouldn't have enough strength to keep pursuing us right now. He'll need time to heal."
Lloyd replied. He did not believe that attack could have killed Samuel. It wasn't merely because of the Authority. Samuel had already undergone demonic transformation. The awakening of his Secret Blood had crossed the critical threshold, causing every physical attribute of his body to surge dramatically. And besides, that shot had never pierced his heart.
Samuel needed time to recover.
So did Lloyd.
"We have to leave. That explosion will definitely draw the other witch hunters here. If we don't get out now, we could all die here."
Lloyd slung Shalmanes's arm over his shoulder and began moving with difficulty.
The true terror of witch hunters was that they almost always operated in groups. Someone like Lloyd, who wandered alone, was an exception. After all, the Old Order seemed to have only one member left.
He was the last lone wolf of the pack.
"You could leave me behind."
Shalmanes couldn't understand Lloyd's stubbornness. If Lloyd abandoned him, there was a very good chance he could escape on his own.
"No. I need your knowledge. Your secrets. The history of the Evangelical Church and the witch-hunting order. All of that is inside your head."
Hearing this, Shalmanes stared at Lloyd in surprise. Beneath the grime covering his face, his gray-blue eyes shone with an intense light.
He was a stubborn man, too.
Much like himself.
Shalmanes slowly spread his lips into a silent smile, then asked in a feeble voice, "Yager. You're not dead yet, are you?"
After a long while, Yager finally pushed away the shattered wooden barrel that had fallen on him in the corner. He waved at Shalmanes, but no words came out. A splinter of wood had pierced his throat during the explosion. One hand remained clamped tightly over the wound; without it, he would have bled to death long ago.
There was not the slightest tremor in Shalmanes's eyes. He simply pulled himself free of Lloyd's support and staggered over to Yager, gently cupping the man's face in his hands.
"Child, you're going to die."
Yager gave him a bitter smile and slowly nodded.
"Your time has come to sacrifice yourself to God."
Yager's expression froze.
Then it melted away.
He looked relieved, as though he had finally fulfilled some long-awaited duty. His entire body relaxed as he leaned against the wall.
Back in the Rat's Nest, when Lloyd had pursued them, Yager had said the same words to the priests. Under his urging, those priests had gladly gone to their deaths.
Now it was his turn.
Strangely, Yager felt no fear. He was about to die, yet he felt utterly at peace, as though once he closed his eyes, he would awaken again in the glorious Kingdom of God.
Shalmanes simply kept staring at his face, a faint sadness lingering across his old, ruined features.
...
Clear, cold rain continued to fall upon the earth. When Lloyd looked toward the heavens, bright light churned behind the gray-silver clouds, as though daylight itself waited just beyond them, forever ready to break free of its restraints.
Lloyd stepped through the soft grass beneath the rain, supporting Shalmanes as they climbed over the fence.
Sporadic gunshots came from the direction of the wine cellar.
Yager was still resisting.
Lloyd had left all of his remaining ammunition with him, along with the final Dark Antimony throwing knife.
This had been Shalmanes's plan. What they needed most now was time. Yager would remain in the wine cellar and draw the enemy's fire, making it appear as though Lloyd and Shalmanes were still inside. Meanwhile, Lloyd and Shalmanes would escape through another hidden door and make for the horses in the estate's stables.
There was no way of knowing when another train would pass through.
Better to ride like hell.
"Is faith really that powerful?" Lloyd asked.
He couldn't shake the memory of Yager's final expression.
It was not the face of a dying man.
"Perhaps."
Shalmanes did not seem inclined to say more. He leaned against the fence and sat down. He had almost no strength left.
"Lloyd… Lloyd Medici. I don't take part in the Church's internal struggles, but I know a thing or two. There are people who say that after Lloyd Medici went into seclusion, he continued to interfere with the Evangelical Church. Only this time, he did it from the shadows."
Shalmanes suddenly began speaking. He stared straight at Lloyd, his eyes seeming almost frozen in place.
"You saw it yourself just now. That power called Janal. And yet that power originated from the Book of Revelation. During the Golden Age, Lloyd Medici held almost everything in the palm of his hand. Even High Priest Lawrence was merely his puppet. Do you really think he could have known nothing about the Book of Revelation?"
The cold rain caught in Shalmanes's throat, and he began coughing violently, his breathing growing weaker.
"We'll talk after we get out of here."
"Silence! Let me finish!"
Shalmanes exploded in anger, only to weaken again moments later. His voice became a faint, rambling murmur.
"He must have read the Book of Revelation. That book of miracles. That forbidden book. It gave birth to witch hunters as powerful as you. And if that wasn't enough… perhaps it also contained a way to become 'immortal.'"
Lloyd was pulling at the reins of a magnificent horse, but when he heard those words, his hands stopped.
"As for Lloyd Medici's final years, there are far too many theories within the Evangelical Church. The most credible is that he was engaged in a struggle with High Priest Lawrence… or rather, with everyone in the Evangelical Church.
"Lawrence was controlled by Lloyd Medici. But as Lloyd Medici grew old, his grip over the Evangelical Church weakened. Eventually, he could no longer hold on to power, and so Lloyd Medici disappeared.
"But he wasn't willing to accept his fate. He tried to find a way to become immortal.
"Naturally, the faction led by Lawrence had no desire to see him rise again. No matter how small the possibility, they couldn't allow it. And so they began fighting one another in secret."
Shalmanes drew several deep breaths, as though he might lose consciousness at any moment.
"But an aging lion is still a lion. No one dared truly provoke him. And so the stalemate continued for years, until someone began to suspect that Lloyd Medici had found a way to become immortal… and had begun carrying out a plan."
"What plan?" Lloyd asked urgently.
"I don't know. I don't even know whether it truly existed, much less whether it succeeded… Who can say? The great fire on the Night of Advent destroyed everything. Even Lloyd Medici died that night. It has become a mystery."
Lloyd was so close to the truth.
Yet he was trapped at its very edge, unable to delve any deeper.
"Come on! Get up!"
There was no time to think about it now. Lloyd had no idea how much longer Yager could hold out. He helped Shalmanes onto the horse.
Then Lloyd mounted another.
He gestured for Shalmanes to ride.
But Shalmanes remained motionless. His head hung low, as though he were already dead.
"The Evangelical Church… The Evangelical Church holds too many forbidden secrets. Lloyd, it appeared in this world the moment history first began to turn, and for a thousand years it has fought against demons."
"But where did the Evangelical Church itself begin? Was it really as the Gospel records say? A group of fearless men ventured beyond the northern ice sea and returned with knowledge capable of changing the world…
"But where did that knowledge come from? Trace it back to its source, and there must have been a beginning. There has to be!"
"That's what I should be asking you!"
Lloyd roared. In fury, he struck Shalmanes's horse, forcing it into motion.
Two lonely figures galloped across the green fields beneath the rain. Cold raindrops struck Shalmanes's face. He was exhausted, but he forced himself to remain awake, refusing to close his eyes.
"Lloyd Holmes!"
He shouted suddenly, his withered hand wrenching hard on the reins.
"What the hell are you trying to do?"
Lloyd roared angrily. They had succeeded. All they had to do was keep riding, and they could escape the witch hunters.
Yet Shalmanes was smiling.
He asked almost casually, "Got a cigarette?"
Lloyd froze.
A strange feeling rose within him, but he couldn't quite put it into words.
The old man was drenched from head to toe, yet he was still smiling at him.
"I remember you once said that tobacco is desire, and that a believer should restrain his longing for such things."
Lloyd had heard his sermons before.
"I'm going to die anyway. I've been devout all my life. God won't mind this."
Lloyd fell silent.
He took out a cigarette and lit it for Shalmanes, but the rain was too heavy, the wind too fierce. The flame went out again and again before finally managing to catch.
Shalmanes raised one hand to shield the cigarette from the rain. He held it awkwardly between his lips, took a hard drag, and immediately choked, letting out a pained groan.
"You don't smoke?"
"First time in my life! Though I have to say, this stuff tastes terrible. Why do you people like it so much?"
Shalmanes kept the cigarette between his lips, feeling the acrid heat burning down his throat. He asked with genuine confusion.
"Would've been nice to have some wine."
He continued speaking.
He had lived an entire life of devotion, yet at the very end, he had inexplicably decided to indulge himself.
"Shalmanes…"
Lloyd whispered his name.
"I'm glad that, at the end of my life, I met you, Lloyd Holmes. Rather than some Miguel… or Senny Lothair."
Shalmanes spoke softly, then forced a smile at Lloyd.
The smile was painfully ugly.
"Shalmanes, we still have a chance. We can get away…"
"No chance, Lloyd. The witch hunters won't let me go. And I'm already beyond saving."
He spoke, then broke into another violent coughing fit.
"Perhaps this is simply the fate of the Borgia family. We began with poison, and we end with poison."
Only then did Lloyd notice that Shalmanes's face had begun turning livid. Black blood seeped from his wounds, carrying an ominous aura.
The poison from the explosion had reached him as well.
After everything he had endured, the old man had finally reached his limit.
"I'm dying. So let me ramble a little longer."
As he spoke, Shalmanes reached into his coat and pulled out his notebook.
After such a brutal battle, the notebook remained almost perfectly intact. Its only flaw was the small stains of blood now scattered across its pages.
"This is my notebook. It contains everything I've recorded about myself… No. It contains everything the Borgia family has ever recorded concerning the Evangelical Church.
"But be careful, Lloyd. Knowledge is cursed. When you reach certain truths, something will notice you."
Even as he faced death, speaking of these things filled Shalmanes with unease and fear.
It was almost like fate.
Today, he had touched those forbidden truths.
And today, he would die.
Lloyd took the notebook.
It was unbearably heavy in his hands, as though he were holding a piece of the mountain itself.
"Why?"
Lloyd couldn't understand.
"How do I put it…? It's like a man knows he is going to die, yet he still carries an enormous wish. A wish so immense that, for a moment, it allows him to cast aside every allegiance, every distinction between good and evil. Everything becomes secondary to that single desire…
"You're not a good choice, Lloyd Holmes. You're just like Samuel. He lives for some so-called victory. You, too, are obsessively living for something. Otherwise, you could have simply hidden yourself after the Night of Advent instead of meeting me here today."
Shalmanes sighed weakly.
"I've seen too many people like you.
"Miguel, who craved power.
"Senny Lothair, who devoted himself to the uncanny.
"Even Lloyd Medici, obsessed with the Golden Age.
"You're all the same. Madmen obsessed with a single thing…
"But I can't do that. I'm a saint! I'm destined for Heaven! How could I possibly walk alongside devils like you?"
He looked one last time at the notebook containing those hidden secrets.
Then, satisfied, Shalmanes whispered softly,
"Honestly… I didn't want to entrust these things to people like you, either. But only people like you are willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish something."
Shalmanes fell silent.
With the last of his strength, he urged his horse forward and slowly turned back toward the estate.
"My believer has already gone to his death. How could I abandon him? Besides, they'll never truly give up unless they see my corpse."
"And I've been running for too long already. I don't have the strength to run anymore."
The horse's hooves pressed into the grass.
Slowly, Shalmanes began to draw away from Lloyd.
Watching that desolate figure recede into the rain, Lloyd finally couldn't hold himself back.
"Shalmanes! Shalmanes Borgia! You gave everything to your God. Everything you had. Do you truly believe that He exists?"
If the God they spoke of truly existed, how could He allow something as twisted as demons to exist?
If God truly existed, why had He never answered the prayers of His believers?
Shalmanes stopped.
The curtain of rain separated him from Lloyd, like the boundary between the worlds of life and death.
"Mr. Lloyd Holmes… this world is too cruel. Life and death, joy and sorrow, reunion and separation… not to mention those grotesque demons.
"So people have to believe in something, just to deceive themselves.
"Don't they?"
His aged laughter drifted through the wind.
Shalmanes did not turn around.
He clenched the cigarette between his lips and drew in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
The warhorse suddenly broke into a full gallop.
He was like a blade of impossible sharpness, cutting through the wind and rain as he charged forward.
Nothing could catch him now.
Not even his shadow.
It was as though time itself had been turned back.
For a fleeting moment, he was young again.
He shouted into the storm, tears burning in his eyes.
Lloyd watched that figure gradually disappear into the curtain of rain.
And then, at the far end of the storm, brilliant flames suddenly rose into the heavens.
Illuminated by that blazing light, Lloyd saw the black silhouette of the old man.
Like a saint marching willingly toward his death, Shalmanes charged straight into that burning kingdom of heaven.
"From now on, there is reserved for you the crown of righteousness."
An unknown hymn drifted upon the wind, performing the final Mass.