Ch.615Episode 22 – The Kazitsky Test

Shakan’s eyes gleamed sharply as he looked at Milo. It was a gaze of suspicion.

The surroundings were quiet.

The sudden silence was almost unnaturally profound.

Some seemed unable to understand their companion’s abrupt behavior, while others twitched their lips as if in agreement with him.

Shakan narrowed his eyes and began to stare intently at Emily’s face.

“Answer me, Emily.”

“……”

“Hurry, before Fenrih gets here.”

Perhaps feeling intimidated by an opponent whose body was easily three times his own size, Milo instinctively hunched his shoulders, but he still defiantly raised his chin and glared back.

After glancing briefly at the mole beastman, Emily boldly stepped forward toward the werewolf.

“Shakan, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

An alien scent.

A seemingly fake attitude.

Everything was suspicious.

“You two….”

—CRASH!!

The air split. The window shattered.

Shakan’s ears twitched, Emily lowered her stance, and Milo’s body jerked backward.

His small frame knocked over a table and vase as Milo collapsed unceremoniously like a drunk pedestrian. The wallpaper behind him was already stained a dark color.

Everyone in the apartment dropped to the floor without hesitation.

Quill shouted something toward the fallen Milo, but the mole beastman showed no response, as if he hadn’t heard the voice.

As viscous dark red liquid seeped through the cracks between the moldings where large and small stains had spread.

Beyond the broken window.

-Click!

The demon hunter who had revealed their presence pulled back the bolt as if reeling in a fishing line.

Episode 22 – The Kazinski Test

The cigarette smell permeating the air seems particularly strong today.

The rain has stopped, but droplets still cling to the car windows. I take a breath as I sit in the driver’s seat.

Humid air enters my throat. It’s damp and heavy.

The inside of the car is more stifling than outside, and I flick away ash as the dim ember flickers.

“……”

The dirty cigarette ash instantly stains my sleeve, but I have no time to worry about such things.

As I repeatedly reach into and withdraw my hand from the pocket containing my heavy mobile phone, anxiety seems to tighten its grip on me.

Outside, rainwater still crawls along the road.

Just as I lower the window slightly and take a deep breath.

A beastman approaches with quick steps, splashing through puddles, and places his soaked hands on the window frame.

“I-I said I want to go home…!”

After lowering the window a bit more, I watch him and ask in a low voice.

“Keep your voice down. How many were inside?”

“Nine. About nine… They’re all low-ranking, but some have the ability to mobilize their acquaintances.”

“Tell them to go home, pack only essential belongings, and leave the residential district. Use this to make fake transit passes.”

After I hand over an envelope-wrapped bundle of cash, the rabbit beastman leaves with words of gratitude, retracing his steps. I drive away from the scene.

One name on the list of terrorists in my work notebook has just been crossed off.

I’m currently going around sabotaging terrorist organizations through beastmen recruited by Camilla.

Members who joined for survival are given money and sent home as defectors, while those who joined for ideology are infiltrated with informants and divided through agitation.

Incidentally, I’m also tracking down and recovering dynamite materials.

“……”

On a deserted road.

While driving along a now-familiar path, I receive a text message from an informant.

《Mole beastman deceased.》

That was the entire content.

After deleting the message, I recline deep into the seat and fall into thought.

Outside the car window, heavy rain has started pouring down again.

Just like then, like that day.

*

Reality never unfolds according to imagination.

How wonderful it would be if everything in the world flowed exactly as desired and planned. Unfortunately, until now, the world has never once operated in such a manner.

From the beginning, worldly affairs have always been a series of unexpected events.

Reality is cold and indifferent, imagination is light, and consequences are always merciless.

“What are you doing…!”

That responsibility sank like a heavy piece of metal, weighing down the heart.

Camilla reached out urgently and grabbed the gun barrel that was protruding over the railing. The metal piece, which had just spewed flames in rapid succession, felt quite hot despite having emptied only one clip.

It would have been an action that would certainly cause burns for an ordinary person, but the heated barrel couldn’t harm her hand, protected as it was by magical power. Thanks to this, Camilla was able to seize the rifle almost as if snatching it away.

-Clatter!

The rifle, crafted from high-grade wood, was roughly thrown over the roof.

The sound of it scraping against tiles as it rolled across the floor spread sharply.

The agonized scream of a beloved weapon rang out, but Veronica didn’t even blink.

She simply drew a revolver from her holster and calmly aimed at her target.

“Today too, let my hand not tremble. Guide the bullets to fly straight, and let the enemies fall like autumn leaves. Even if your little lamb has shot down the wrong path… don’t be petty, and make sure I hit the mark next time.”

Every scene seemed to flow like a panorama. Like watching an old black-and-white Western film.

The hammer struck the primer, igniting the gunpowder.

The silver revolver in the saint’s hand was slowly raised.

The cylinder rotated smoothly. The cartridges, without casings, moved one step aside while still waiting within.

Flames bloomed from the barrel, and as the fired bullet formed smoke, it pushed back the saint’s wrist.

Ashen heat swirled above the silver barrel.

The saint stared ahead with an unchanged expression.

While the 5-pound trigger pull was one thing, the cumbersome process of cocking the hammer each time was quite troublesome,

But for Veronica, even this posed no problem whatsoever.

After all, a demon hunter’s hands are more nimble than any gunslinger’s.

-Click,

—BANG!!

—BANG!!

The silver flashes hit their targets with every shot.

One pierced the neck of a lycanthrope trying to hide behind furniture, and two more embedded themselves in the chests of those desperately trying to escape through the entrance.

“You damn—”

“Where to?”

A lycanthrope stomped across the balcony with fierce determination. The taut, bulging shirt was a clear sign of impending transformation.

As the snout rapidly elongated, gradually resembling a wolf’s form, Veronica quickly pulled the trigger toward him while observing his menacing gaze.

Two bullets hit his knee and chest respectively.

The body, having lost its momentum, fell below the balcony, and as the gun barrel following him spewed flames, his head exploded like a watermelon.

“Phew…”

After finally expending all six shots, Veronica emptied the casings onto the rooftop and let out a brief sigh of relief.

Corpses were strewn all around.

All were lycanthropes who had either rushed at her or tried to flee from her.

“……”

With blood and flesh fragments overflowing everywhere in the apartment and streets.

The saint loaded her cylinder with new ammunition for any lycanthropes that might still be alive.

Then, leisurely putting a cigarette in her mouth, she made this request to the dazed girl.

“Hero, could I get a light?”

“……”

“My lighter’s out of fuel.”

It was a scene that made her earlier prayer seem rather ironic.

*

Humans cannot perfectly understand others.

All judgments are made based on oneself, so unless one directly experiences another’s position, no one can truly understand another person.

Nevertheless.

“What are you doing right now…!”

What was wrong was wrong.

“What the hell are you doing!”

Camilla rushed at Veronica and grabbed her by the collar.

The firmly gripped fabric became disheveled.

Though her grip was delicate, the saint almost dropped the cigarette she was holding due to the unexpectedly strong force.

“……”

It was a sudden rebellion, but not entirely unexpected. Veronica tapped the hand gripping her collar as if to say “let go,” and began to speak in a gentle tone.

“Would you mind letting go of this first before we talk?”

“…Why did you shoot?”

“……”

Camilla asked the question with an expression that seemed to be suppressing emotions welling up inside her. Her voice trembled from the first word.

There was no need to ask who. Such a question was unnecessary.

No one present was unaware of whom Veronica had shot.

Having witnessed the sniping firsthand, she couldn’t pretend not to know, nor could she make up a plausible excuse to cover it up.

Veronica was well aware of this fact.

“Didn’t you see the beastman’s identity being discovered by the lycanthropes?”

Even while being held by the collar, she stared at Camilla and answered.

“It wasn’t discovered yet. They were only suspicious based on the circumstances.”

“And?”

“……”

“Do you think suspicion would have remained just suspicion, our hero?”

Camilla closed her mouth.

A damp, cool breeze blew between the two. Her fist, clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her skin, had long since turned pale white.

Observing the girl’s trembling lips, the saint slung her beloved weapon, which had been thrown to the far side of the rooftop, over one shoulder and tilted her eyes as if there was no other choice.

“You may not know this, but werewolves don’t easily trust even other werewolves unless they’re bound by blood. If it’s a beastman, that goes without saying, right?”

“……”

“Still don’t understand? From the moment suspicion arose, that beastman was already a dead man. Emily might have been safe, but Milo would have been dragged to some sewer or warehouse, forced to confess everything he knew, and soon disappeared down their gullets.”

Veronica sighed and gave Camilla an ambiguous smile.

“I simply guided Milo to rest in peace.”

“…Ah. So you put a bullet in the head of someone who was just standing there? Because they were going to die anyway?”

“When you condemn me like that, I sound like a really bad person…”

“You, you damn—”

-Thud.

Droplets clinging to the railing fall helplessly.

Pushed back, Veronica steadied her swaying body with a groan, while Camilla exhaled angrily at her.

“Even so, does it make sense to throw away a life without even trying to save it!? And you call yourself a cleric!”

“……”

“That was someone I was responsible for. Since I sent them there, since I promised to make everyone abandon terrorism and return home… no matter what happened, it was a life I needed to save and bring back!”

Was it due to the lowered temperature? Or perhaps a heart warmer than it appeared?

Whenever she spoke, pale breath always dispersed slowly from her mouth.

Thus, even while being relentlessly confronted, Veronica couldn’t help but feel a subtle sadness watching the girl.

“…Hero.”

There was a dilemma.

Should she say this or not?

After internal conflict, Veronica slowly parted her lips.

“I understand your desire to protect your informants, but don’t delude yourself into thinking that beastman would have preciously protected you in return.”

“……”

“What if we had failed the rescue? I hear they were planning to start terrorism from tomorrow. If we hadn’t rescued them by tonight, it wouldn’t have been just you and me in danger.”

“……”

“Remember that Frederick, Commissioner Peter, and everyone involved in this matter could have been in danger too.”

Veronica wasn’t sure if her persuasion would work.

Only the Celestial and Earth Mother would know what the girl, who was silently listening to her words with tightly closed lips, was thinking.

Silence passed between them. An uncomfortable silence.

As Veronica’s persuasion ended, Camilla lowered her head and began to look at the ground.

And after a long silence.

When she raised her eyes again,

“…Who is it?”

They shone with an intensely blue and sorrowful light.

“Who exactly gave you such an order?”

“……”

“Was it the Inquisition? Or.”

“I did.”

The saint tilted her face and answered.

With a face bearing an infinitely kind and loving smile.

The saint told the girl.

“I made the decision and acted on my own.”

*

It was then.

When a bone-chilling coldness began to envelop the two.

“—Look out!”

Camilla, who until just moments ago had been gripping Veronica’s collar, pushed her in a safe direction and shouted.

—CRASH!!!

Ice shards embedded themselves in the space where the two had been standing.

A terrifying roar echoed. The railing crumpled and tore away, and the sight of roof tiles being completely shattered and lifted was enough to make one’s hair stand on end.

Camilla, regaining her posture, witnessed sharp ice fragments approaching right before her face and fell backward.

“Huh?!”

Her body, falling as if collapsing, turned to ash, and the ice fragments, a half-beat slower, rushed over and began to shred it mercilessly.

In response, Camilla, who appeared with a ‘pop!’ in mid-air, landed beside Veronica and frantically raised her voice.

“What is that now?! It looked like sorcery, but it’s a type I’ve never seen before!”

“I don’t know this sorcery either! But I do know who it is…!”

Veronica, opening her gun bag and taking out a double-barrel shotgun, clicked her tongue as if things had become troublesome.

“If it’s sorcery specialized in ice. Is that the lycanthrope we’ve been looking for?”

Just then, at the perfect timing, the attack ceased.

Also, an eerie presence began to be felt from beyond the darkness.

A presence both massive yet seemingly small. An ability condensed with the chill of quartz in a deep cave. Yet a voice filled with rage that blazed like the heat of midday sun.

—So you recognize me. Vulgar gunslinger of Laterano.

The bleak, rough voice seemed to echo from the rain-crawling roads, moonlit windows, and brick walls where viscous substances had congealed.

But Camilla and Veronica weren’t deceived by this and kept their gazes fixed forward.

In the night where darkness lay thick.

Even the heavenly watchtower that monitored the wicked had discreetly hidden itself behind clouds. The tyrannical darkness seemed to have not only devoured all things but even subjugated time itself.

An oversized coat, ordinary shoes without any distinctive features, a wrinkled shirt with buttons not fully fastened, and a belt that should be properly worn by a man was nowhere to be seen.

The dark circles under his eyes and the hollow eye sockets immediately revealed his mental state. The unkempt, dark beard was the same.

If someone had spotted him walking the streets at night, anyone would have felt compelled to point out his serious lack of self-care.

However.

Looking at the ice chunks floating in the air.

Not only the ignorant who knew nothing of magic or sorcery, but even magicians and sorcerers would not have dared to make eye contact with that man.

“…That.”

Camilla could immediately recognize that the opponent was a sorcerer of no ordinary skill.

Magic and sorcery that operate continuously require vast energy consumption as a prerequisite, making it impossible to even attempt without considerable talent.

Of course, whether one could do it even with talent was still a different matter.

At least according to the knowledge she had learned, magicians who could handle continuous activation were few even in modern times. Camilla had only seen the Grand Duke use it, but had never successfully experienced it herself.

Yet the sorcery of the enemy before her seemed, at a glance, similar to the magic the Grand Duke had shown.

“…We’re doomed. Where did such a monster come from?”

“The little monster speaks of others.”

The man lightly cracked his neck and sneered at Camilla.

“This tedious human life is starting to ache, and when I heard my clan members were ready, I came out for once. The scent of blood was so thick I thought the impatient ones had already started a feast… but that wasn’t the case, it seems.”

His drawling yet somehow sharp tone continued.

The man cracked his interlocked hands behind his back.

“Should I introduce myself?”

“……”

“I am Fenrih, leader of Shadow Rock Hill.”

The usurper who took his father’s life and rose as the pack leader.

The conqueror born in the red desert who crossed the sea.

The lycanthrope who refused to live as a werewolf and declared to follow the ancient bond forged in blood.

Under the revealed moonlight, the black-haired beast traced the scar on his cheek with his thumb and showed a detestable smile.

“I’ve heard rumors of someone hunting lycanthropes while hiding like a rat, but I didn’t expect you to come looking for me on your own. Are you here to kill me? Or to scout a burial site?”

“Bullshit.”

The saint, extending her middle finger, responded in a flippant tone.

At this, the leader of the lycanthropes laughed mockingly.

“If you came after seeing the gift I sent, I can only explain it as looking for a burial site.”

It was an attitude overflowing with confidence.

It seemed that way to Veronica, and it was indeed true.

The source of his confident attitude was probably that sorcery. Perhaps he was also counting on the unidentified number of werewolves.

Even in the apartment behind them, the presence of several lycanthropes who hadn’t been killed and were waiting for an opportunity could be felt.

“These demons, really…”

Just as the saint frowned irritably and was about to aim her shotgun.

Camilla, who had activated her magic, urgently surveyed the surroundings and began to speak to her.

“Veronica. I’m sorry to say this now, but, um… we did call for backup, right?”

It was a voice so small that the opponent could never hear it. Veronica nodded slightly and answered quietly.

“I called earlier.”

“Let’s hold out as long as we can.”

A bright flame rose from the darkness.

Camilla, with clenched fists, stood back-to-back with Veronica.

“…I’ll trust you.”

Veronica took a deep breath and responded with silence. Camilla also focused her mind on the approaching presences without saying a word.

She could feel it.

Far away.

From distant alleys, sewers, rooftops.

Bloodthirsty footsteps approaching like a tidal wave.

“……”

Watching all this, Fenrih raised several dozen fragments and began in a languid voice.

“You’re caught in a futile dream.”

His fingers drop.

Coldness penetrates to the bone.

The sound of bloodthirsty wind echoes like the toll of a bell announcing midnight.

“You’ll just die a little later, that’s all.”

*

It was then.

—CRACK!!!

The countless winter shadows that had been rushing forward suddenly stopped in mid-air, as if hitting a wall.

Like a cracked glass window, the atmosphere split and shattered with a loud rupturing sound, long and extended.

The blocked ice fragments lost their form and slowly fell downward. The falling droplets shook and clumped repeatedly, then bloomed into red rose petals one by one, drifting away with a wind that came from somewhere.

And,

“Roses are always beautiful flowers to see.”

The woman sitting on a carpet stroked the flowing rose petals passing by her hand and smiled contentedly.

In the night of the full moon. Between her hair that softly dispersed, seeming to absorb starlight, her eyes were revealed. They were eyes that held both mystery and danger.

Her flowing attire, fluttering in the wind, accentuated her elegance, making her seductive smile seem to shine even more vividly in the darkness.

On the flying carpet in the sky. The woman sat leisurely as if she knew all the secrets of the world.

However, no one could reproach or blame her.

Because she was the greatest sorceress in the world.

Of course—

There is no such thing as ‘absolute’ in this world.

“Shut up, Jeinab. I’m suffering from lack of sleep again because of your tricks.”

“My~ How did that become my trick? If a certain someone from somewhere hadn’t rashly summoned a Celestial believer to the north, I wouldn’t have had to be bossed around by someone so much younger.”

“Be quiet!”

How many people in the world could dare to use curses and disrespect when speaking to the face of the greatest sorceress in the world?

Despite this irreverent attitude, the mysterious sorceress imposed no punishment.

Rather, she merely exchanged jokes with her as if accustomed to it.

“When I heard my runaway disciple was caught up in a commotion, I was beside myself with worry. After interrogating passersby and thoroughly investigating around the lodgings, well… there was a foul dog smell everywhere.”

A woman with cold anger stepped through the darkness.

She was a woman shining with mysterious silver. The magician with deep blue was rumored to be the world’s unparalleled greatest magician.

When blue flames flashed, even those who had made magicians tremble with fear despaired, and once even the most sacred territory was stained with her anger.

“There are exactly three things I hate most in the world.”

The woman who revealed herself opened her mouth with a graceful voice.

Under the moonlight, she was a bewitching woman who could be said to be the most beautiful in the world without exaggeration.

With each of her steps, flames arose.

The sight of blue flames shooting up with each footstep seemed like an expression of her will to burn everything in the world.

The flames blazed more and more intensely behind her.

“First are demons.”

Her garments fluttered in the strong wind.

It was a gust created by flames and blood.

“Second are dogs.”

The mysterious silver hair flashed like lightning on the dark roof.

The screams of lycanthropes approaching moment by moment from the darkness echoed throughout the city like wailing ghosts.

“Third are wolves.”

The softly burning anger most clearly and distinctly,

Revealed the Grand Magician’s presence.

“Conveniently, you fall into all three categories.”

The name first mentioned when discussing the greatest magicians in the world.

The heart of a sect that has never been attacked in history, the witch who commanded the Grand Assault on Laterano.

The Grand Duke who defended the northern line from the frozen land’s demons for decades.

Also the teacher searching for her runaway disciple, Alexandra Petrova.

“You’ve brought an old teacher a wolf cub who knows a few tricks to keep her from getting bored. What an impudent and clever child.”

“Ah, no, Professor? You see, what happened was—”

“You just stay crumpled over there for now.”

“Oof—”

The Grand Duke, who had appeared like a comet, covered Camilla’s mouth with her hand and rolled her piercing gaze to glare at Fenrih.

Between the disheveled silver hair, blue eyes flickered.

“I needed a winter fur coat for the child, and this is perfect.”

It was a declaration that she would skin him alive.