Bailonz Street 13

“We must protect Miss Jane Osmond. She’s not someone who needs to die for the world.”

“I agree. It would be best if we could protect the young lady and send her back through that rift. It’s still too narrow for that great god to force through. William will reduce the rift to just enough for one person to pass.”

“‘Send her back,’ you say.”

“I don’t want to separate lovers who are living happily, but it’s better than dying.”

Herschel agreed. Then he recalled words he once spoke to Liam:

‘Love no one.’

Love no one, lose no one. That’s what he’d said. Words spoken while sunk in despair after losing his wife Evelyn.

Ah, how he had lived like a broken man.

He would never forget his wife, who died from a cult’s revenge that he had been pursuing. Even now when he closed his eyes, that scene replayed in his mind. Again and again. Again and again.

Thunder outside the window, rain pouring through the open window, broken vase and thoroughly trampled flowers… and his wife. The corpse of the person he loved.

It felt like someone had planted a spring in his head. Every time he woke from sleep, Herschel Hopkins invariably wished this was all a midsummer night’s dream.

That his aged self was the distant future, that he had returned to the past. That his wife would be safe. That having seen this future, he could save her once more…

But cruel reality always greeted him.

That’s why he wished even more. That his godson at least would not feel the terror of losing someone he loved. Being tender-hearted, if he experienced loss he would collapse forever.

The two men who knew this sighed simultaneously. Owen Cassfire muttered with a gloomy face:

“Why did Liam’s first love have to be Miss Jane?”

“Perhaps because she’s an outstanding and wise person.”

“No, I mean. First loves don’t work out, right? The problem isn’t falling in love, it’s that it’s a ‘first love.’ Would it have killed him to date a bit before?”

Herschel smiled bitterly.

“Since he’d run away whenever called to proceed with engagements, even Arthur gave up.”

“Such high standards, really.”

“High standards indeed.”

Though forcing them to part troubled his heart, there was no choice. Rather than living under constant life threats here, it would be best for that young lady to return to her world. Because she was someone meant to belong elsewhere. Liam Moore here. Jane Osmond there.

“Anyway, we need to send her back to prevent the worlds from connecting. If other things cross through that gap, great chaos will unfold. I don’t want to be the one who released monsters into the young lady’s world, and…”

“Are you looking for the catalyst?”

“…I found it. The problem is how to dismantle it.”

Yes, he had found it. Even before this. He had witnessed something before all this happened.

When Jane Osmond was kidnapped by Clara Barnum. While cleaning up the situation, Greenwich had erased the magic circles and magical traces there but not other things, namely the structures. They thought no one would use a place that had already been discovered.

But the statue that existed in the deepest part of the cavity beneath the cathedral, the space Jane Osmond had discovered, was the catalyst.

Clara Barnum wanted power. To obtain it, she must have used the altar prepared by other cultists. The underground temple that had been used long ago but forgotten after its power was cut off. And she performed strange rituals for a contract with a god.

However, unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, something different from what Clara Barnum wanted emerged.

Clara, who had no knowledge about matters concerning Greenwich’s monitored boundaries, must have blindly worshipped that being. Why else would they say ignorance is sometimes a blessing? It’s no laughing matter that she mortgaged her remaining life due to the aftermath of that contract. One must pity her inability to die properly, moving with a dead body. Though it was Clara Barnum’s choice anyway.

“As I always say, all grimoires should be burned.”

Due to Owen skipping the middle process and jumping to conclusions, Herschel nodded with a bewildered face. It was natural for him to shudder, having his own bitter experiences with grimoires. From the infamous ‘Instrument’ to the relatively lesser-known ‘Conductor of La Mancha.’ Considering their evil influence on human minds, they deserved to be destroyed.

“The yearning for power is truly ridiculous. It’s pathetic how they obsess over things like devils and magic, desperately wanting power somehow.”

“What are you suddenly talking about?”

“That corpse found in the cave. The mummy. That woman incorrectly summoned Chaos using the statue of the ‘Sovereign.’ We need to destroy it, but it’s quite tricky. Did she think she could just summon something by blindly following without knowing anything? Well, I suppose she must have had some talent since she managed to summon something.”

Herschel now gradually understood Owen’s words.

So, the statue in the cavity beneath the cathedral. That must be what’s binding the incorrectly summoned Black King to this world.

The problem is that it’s another god’s statue, whether incorrectly or correctly depicted. Judging by the audacity of using it as his catalyst, their path wouldn’t be entirely easy.

“Since I’m not Liam Moore, I can’t use glass-like things. Let’s go as quickly as possible.”

“How about calling Liam now?”

“He needs to keep closing that.”

Looking at the one barely remaining footbridge, Owen pulled Herschel.

“We’ll need to hurry to cross the Thames. Before the remaining bridge breaks too!”

“Location?”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

“I know it! It’s not far!”

Herschel also started running. Running at age fifty wasn’t good for his joints or lungs, but what could he do? Young people never consider his age.

* * *

Jane Osmond met her seventeenth death.

* * *

Excuse me, but is today perhaps Easter?

It’s sudden, but I wanted to ask that. The sensation of having a huge hole pierced through my lower abdomen was vivid, yet when I came to, there wasn’t a single wound on my body. No, rather, I was overflowing with strength.

“That was your seventeenth death. Your reaction speed has improved, but you still think too much.”

“You’re truly insane…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

God or whatever, I don’t care. Have some blasphemy.

The Black King’s way of toying with me was unique. Like a cat playing with its prey, he was teaching me to move faster, sharper, more sensitively. Is this what eons of knowledge means? It felt like I was inheriting all the combat experience he had accumulated while pretending to be human and mixing among them.

The problem was that there seemed to be no end to it, no matter how much I kept up.

I don’t even understand why he’s doing this. He acts like he’s going to kill me, then stops his attacks just short of death, leaving me barely alive.

The sensation of dying was vivid. I could feel my organs gradually losing function. Lungs, heart. Blurred vision came next, and hearing was the last to go.

Then he heals me again. He even seems to infuse me with energy, not just healing my body but making me able to face him properly.

When I regained consciousness with clothes covered in blood but body perfectly fine, he was still looking down at me with a smiling face.

“Get up. Come again. Shouldn’t you show your determination to save the world?”

That was repeated seventeen times.

I got up again.

Perhaps because I know the body’s pain is temporary and he’ll soon revive me? I gradually became less hesitant to attack him. Swinging and slashing the sword, throwing my body and rolling become as natural as breathing.

“Experiencing it several times certainly makes a difference. Others couldn’t keep up this much.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Are you a pervert? Do you get thrilled and excited when you see people suffering?”

The king cackled at my brazen words. Then some force threw me aside.

“Ugh!”

This is the first time he’s attacked without warning. Before, he always indicated the direction with his attacks, watching how quickly I judged and responded. Now he’s acting like a parent who pushes a bicycle and suddenly lets go!

Fortunately, I could block the attack by raising my sword when it came. I flipped once in the air and rolled with breakfall technique.

Now I’m doing breakfalls when I didn’t even know what they were before. Doesn’t this usually require some muscle? I don’t know. Despite having no muscles, I’m gradually able to handle this sword like part of my body.

Such changes are frightening. But he wouldn’t even allow me to think. Like a pirate roulette, making me spring when stabbed, forcing me to abandon thought and focus on killing. The self-defense techniques Liam taught me seemed laughable now.

My nape tingled. The black sand hardened in the king’s grasp transformed into a crescent-shaped blade and flew toward my neck. All this happened in less than three seconds. I reflexively deflected the blade.

Clang! Clang!

The deflected blade spun back with a terrifying sound. It was returning to me. Slightly bent over, watching it, I felt something strange.

‘What is it?’

Strange. I had a sense of déjà vu.