Gun of Ashes-Chapter 514 - 105 Patient Zero
Lorenzo didn't know who sent that letter, but judging from that Secret Blood, the sender surely knew something and harbored ill-will.
However, as Oscar had said, this was an open conspiracy, one that Lorenzo couldn't refuse. Even without these, Lorenzo wanted to meet Shermans; he was the only person in Old Dunling who had known and seen him in the past. Perhaps some of Lorenzo's suspicions could be confirmed by him.
He stepped on the soft grass and made his way towards the manor.
The infiltration process was not difficult; there weren't many guards here, mostly those Shermans brought from Florence. Perhaps under the Protection of the Purification Mechanism, they've mostly let their guard down, not believing anyone would find this hidden place.
But that's exactly the case. With the development of steam technology, people abandoned the outdated towns and flocked to the prosperous big cities. Old Dunling was like a magnet, attracting everyone around.
In such circumstances, formerly esteemed manors fell into decline; people preferred living in the city center of Old Dunling.
The place was spacious and dilapidated; it seemed Shermans had not moved in long. Lorenzo hid in the shadows, searching for Shermans' whereabouts.
After the Night of the Holy Arrival, internal splits occurred within the Church, and that mysterious new Pope was crowned on top of all this.
His mind replayed all that had happened in the Static Holy Temple, and beneath the iron mask were eyes burning with the same passion as Lorenzo's. Clearly, Sainy Loter was a Demon Hunter, but when he donned the mask and was crowned as Pope, who exactly was he among the Demon Hunters?
The aftermath of the Night of the Holy Arrival was more than what Lorenzo knew on the surface.
Pondering this, Lorenzo evaded one patrolling guard after another. He had vague impressions of some of them, seemingly having seen them at the Seven Hills, which further confirmed their identities—they were followers of Shermans.
Lorenzo halted, adjusted his position to hide himself, and soon someone limped past him, using a cane and hobbling along.
Yage was oblivious to the impending crisis, progressing with difficulty on his cane. Shermans did not wait for him, nor did he know where the old man had gone at that moment.
From a distance, Lorenzo watched his back. Back in the Rat Nest, it was him who attacked Lorenzo, and now everything was confirmed—it was Shermans searching for the whereabouts of "Revelation."
Yet there was no tension within the manor, as if these people were on holiday. Have they abandoned the search for "Revelation"? But it's their only power against the new Pope, or have they secured a more formidable advantage?
No one could provide Lorenzo with answers; he could only seek them out slowly, on his own.
...
The curtains were drawn, the room shrouded in darkness. Glowing candles ignited, surrounding the sacred cross and burning slowly. The melted wax spread over the ground like a solidified Red Sea.
Shermans tried to recreate the devout atmosphere of Saint Nalos Cathedral, yet frustratingly, he knew it was different; no matter how he replicated it, it wasn't the same.
He slowly sat down on a chair, put on thick lenses, picked up a pen, and opened a delicately adorned yet ancient book.
There was no title, no author's name; apart from the ornate patterns, the leather cover was simply a monotone dark green, with the spine covered in scars, evidently having been revised many times, with new pages added in.
This was Shermans' notebook, or perhaps his diary—a volume he used for records, though the contents were complex and chaotic, leaving him unable to distinguish them clearly.
Shermans was a supremely devout Cardinal, without extraordinary wisdom or fearsome strength, yet profoundly accomplished in theology. Though from the atheist's perspective, Shermans' actions seemed ridiculously foolish, dedicating a precious life to the void of God.
Throughout his long life, Shermans had thoroughly analyzed the Gospel, attempting as much as possible with mortal reasoning to comprehend the mysterious God, starting from the day he became a Believer up until today.
He turned the thick pages, entirely filled with his handwriting. As he struggled through, reaching the end, much like his nearing death, only a few empty pages remained.
With a withered hand, he gently brushed the pristine surface of the paper and sighed. Though few, it was adequate for his use.
He was so old, his thoughts had dulled, and he couldn't recall what he should write momentarily. Helpless, he skimmed through the previous entries.
This notebook not only recorded Shermans' life but also chronicled the recent history of the Evangelical Church.
The transformations within the Evangelical Church, the rise and fall of the Demon Hunting Order, the hunt for the "Last Demon," also known as the "Holy Grail," extending to the outbreak of the Night of the Holy Arrival, interspersed with power struggles within the Evangelical Church, and the battle between the Faith Faction and the War Faction.
Shermans didn't realize that his devotion to faith and theological study had kept him in a neutral position, coldly observing and recording all this, and the conflagration on the Night of the Holy Arrival had incinerated so many records, rendering his notes extraordinarily precious.
Yet even so, Shermans didn't think much of it; he simply continued his research under these circumstances.
"Demon..."
Shermans murmured softly, his stagnant thoughts gradually becoming nimble as he picked up the pen to resume writing on the blank pages.
Night of the Holy Arrival.
It was a night that changed the lives of many, the old Order was destroyed, Dean Lawrence betrayed and stole the Revelation, the immensely powerful Evangelical Church began to decline from there...
This strength that lasted for countless ages collapsed in just one night.
Shermans was fortunate, his neutrality kept him from participating in that game, and so he was also excluded from the experiment concerning the "Holy Grail", that night he was in Florence, avoiding the shadow of death.
Even now, he remembers every detail of that night with perfect clarity, as if this memory lost the possibility of being forgotten, deeply carved into the depths of his mind.
At that time, Shermans felt an indescribable palpitating fear, as if something was warning him from the void, then he walked out of the study and saw that abhorrent scene.
Under the dark night sky, the sacred Seven Hills was completely engulfed in flames, fiercely burning.
After that night ended, only charred ruins remained, Shermans did not know exactly what those people did, but from the terrible consequences, he could infer bits and pieces, afterwards, Shermans no longer pondered purely about faith, he was also thinking about something else.
What exactly are demons?
"I have searched through many documents, but couldn't find when precisely demons appeared in this world, it seems they did not suddenly appear at a specific moment, but have always accompanied this world.
But then a strange contradiction arises, if demons were born with this world, then in that far-off ignorant era, when humans had yet to master iron and fire, at that time humans were utterly incapable of resisting demons, their dreadful power and irresistible erosion, like an uncontrollable plague.
Logically, humanity should have been completely exterminated at that time, yet we survived, and even today, thousands of years later, have temporarily contained the 'Holy Grail'."
After a brief silence, Shermans seemed to recall where he should start writing, with hands like withered wood grasping the pen tightly, he muttered softly, reinforcing his memory, leaving black markings on the white paper.
"We are still alive, survived so bizarrely, so does this prove that in some blank part of history, in an age forgotten by everyone, demons did not exist, and one day in the future, they suddenly appeared in this world."
Shermans' actions suddenly stopped, if so, everything instead became logical, but new doubts arose, if that's the case, how were demons born?
Nothing can appear out of thin air, so where did demons come from?
"This world is strange... the world we live in is somewhat abnormal, I don't know exactly where its problems lie, but every time I try to understand history, understand the past, understand demons, I can always feel these.
That bizarre distorted feeling entwines me, I can only devote myself wholly to faith, trying to resist these.
Sometimes I am surprised to find that even the rigid and stubborn Shermans will temporarily ignore faith to explore these unsolved mysteries, this isn't something I would normally do, but there's no help for it, people do change." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂
Shermans showed a slight smile, he often mocked himself in his notes, it was one of his few entertainments, but then his face turned cold.
"It's like an abyss with no bottom, as I dig into the past, that strange sense of discordance intensifies, I suddenly realize a problem..."
Shermans' pen came to a halt, he hesitated to write further, as if something was watching him from the shadows, it seemed that as soon as he wrote down that eerie truth... no, even if it wasn't the truth, just writing down a part that slightly touched upon that peculiar truth, he would be killed by that evil anomaly.
This is forbidden knowledge, something unknown is guarding these secrets.
Yet at this moment, he felt no fear, but rather a strange joy, he had been indulging in this for too long, long enough to completely confuse theology with demons.
Yes, he should have understood this long ago, as stated in the Gospel, the twisted demons were born from the shadow of God, they are inherently inseparable.
Shermans' eyes were bloodshot, holding his forehead with one hand, the hand holding the pen trembled violently.
He suddenly thought, as if the wall that had been blocking his thoughts collapsed, thus setting free will unleashed.
"Reviewing the history of the Evangelical Church, I discovered we were always fighting with humanity, warring with our kin... yes, this is true, the demons we killed were all transformed from humans, then what about those [Primordial Demons]? Like a plague, there must be a [Patient Zero], a point of origin that triggered all this."
A sharp chill pierced into Shermans' bones, gripping his heart along with his blood.
"We have always ignored these... or rather, some unknown force has been preventing us from thinking about those.
The demons we killed were originally all humans, the only exception is the [Holy Grail].
The demon that embodies the concept of demon, referred to as the [Holy Grail] and the [Primordial Demon], but is it the only one? Do we truly understand them?
What exactly are demons?"
