Protection of VIPs had been handed over to MI5. As a unit dedicated to fighting monsters, MI5 wouldn't be easily defeated; at the very least, they could stall until reinforcements arrived.
Now, Hellboy and the others needed to find Excalibur, which had accompanied King Arthur to his end, to deliver the final blow to the Blood Queen.
However, on the innermost wall of the cathedral, a hairline crack was emitting a white light.
Constantine stood in front of the crack, examining it closely.
His innate sense of danger was constantly warning him. The massive trouble he had been sensing all along was inextricably linked to this crack.
Ever since Constantine returned to the UK, he had felt an omnipresent pressure. Now that he was personally looking at this crack, his sense of crisis had peaked.
His entire body was trembling slightly.
His restored soul affected his judgment. Originally, he lacked the emotion of fear and wouldn't be brought low by it. But the omnipresent danger left him in no mood to tell his usual dry jokes.
"Constantine! What are you looking at?"
Hellboy grumpily slapped Constantine on the shoulder. Searching for the Stone Sword had consumed a vast amount of his energy and time. Every time the B.P.R.D. found a lead, they would rush to the scene, but all previous explorations had failed.
For the big guy with demon blood, the process was unpleasant. St. Paul's Cathedral was the most likely location according to the investigation results.
"I'm looking at this crack. The power on it... I can barely comprehend it."
Constantine frowned. He pushed his cigarette butt through the crack in front of him. When he pulled it back, the burning cigarette was extinguished.
The front end of the cigarette was icy cold, as if it had experienced the passage of eons. The paper at the tip was yellowed with age, while the end near his hand remained white.
For a man who had weathered many storms, Constantine could identify almost any form of power. But this time, he was seeing something completely beyond his understanding.
His face was grim.
The existence of time as a power was indisputable, but personally feeling the might of Time was still incredibly dangerous for Constantine.
"Is this... Time?"
Constantine spoke with skepticism. He could only use 'Time' to explain what was happening.
He pulled a piece of charcoal from his pocket and began to draw around the crack. Although he didn't think he could solve the problem, trying was better than doing nothing.
Facing the crack, he felt his scalp tingling. The pressure forced him to exert total control over his body just to complete the delicate drawing work.
"What time? We don't have much time!"
Hellboy leaned down and peered into the crack, but in the blinding light, he couldn't see anything clearly.
Vaguely, he saw a head with a ·-· expression on the other side.
Before Hellboy could describe what he saw, Constantine cut him off.
"Don't get so close! No one knows what's on the other side!"
Constantine turned his head to look at Hellboy, and then he saw a bizarre figure with a giant head wearing a black suit standing not far behind Hellboy.
In that instant, the hair on Constantine's neck stood up. Facing that grotesque existence, the emotion of fear surged to an unprecedented high.
"What is that?!"
Constantine cried out in alarm, deeply unsettled.
"What is what?"
Hellboy turned to look at Constantine, confused. He couldn't understand why the usually carefree Constantine would let out a yelp like his tail had been stepped on.
Hellboy's tail slapped the ground irritably.
"Have you ever seen E.T.?! That guy with the head, wearing a black suit! He's right! Behind! You!"
Constantine reached out and grabbed the sawed-off horns on Hellboy's head, physically forcing Hellboy to turn around completely.
If Hellboy hadn't refrained from resisting, the frail Constantine would never have been able to move Hellboy's neck, which was as thick as a regular person's head.
"Holy crap! That's even scarier than you described!"
Hellboy's eyes went wide the moment he saw the monster. He then turned his head back to look at Constantine.
And then, he was confused.
"What is what? Why are you grabbing my horns? If you like them, I can saw them off for you next time they grow out, but let go now!"
Hellboy spoke with dissatisfaction. He knew demon horns were good spellcasting materials for a necromancer like Constantine, but he couldn't accept anyone grabbing them.
As Hellboy repeated the question, Constantine's pupils dilated for a second.
With just this slight anomaly, he understood roughly what kind of power the grotesque monster possessed. Having dealt frequently with demons and angels, his analysis of weird abilities was top-tier.
"It's this!"
Constantine struggled to wrench Hellboy's head back around. This time, he even had to stand up to force Hellboy to turn.
"Holy crap! That's ridiculous!"
"Don't turn back!"
Constantine shouted while using all his strength to keep Hellboy looking straight at the monster.
As soon as you break eye contact, you lose the memory of the monster.
Constantine had figured this out.
"Buddy! What are you guys playing at?"
Daimio watched the two struggling men with a headache. Hellboy and Constantine weren't the types to joke around at a time like this.
Although he was reluctant to act with Constantine, MI5 had no spare hands to take over this job. So, he followed Constantine's gaze.
"E.T. is real! I knew it!"
Daimio immediately let out a cry of surprise.
Though he constantly faced various monsters, this was his first time seeing an alien. He had always suspected—after all, if demons and vampires existed, aliens didn't seem impossible.
Then, he turned his head and let out a bristling roar at Constantine and Hellboy. Parts of a were-jaguar even manifested on his body. Since jaguars are felines, he literally bristled.
But the moment he turned his head, he forgot everything he had just seen.
The monster's name was "The Silence."
People could only remember everything about it while looking at it. But the moment they looked away, the creature would vanish directly from their memory.
This seemed to be a rule, and so far, no one had come up with a solution.
"What do we do?!"
Hellboy had already drawn the gun at his waist and pointed it at the Silence.
Constantine, eyes wide, pressed down firmly on Hellboy's arm. He had ideas other than attacking.
However, due to his action, Hellboy turned his head toward him, and all memory of the Silence vanished from Hellboy's mind again.
"What? Why did I draw my gun!?"
Hellboy yanked his arm back from Constantine's grip, staring at the custom firearm in confusion, his tail slapping the ground anxiously.
Constantine witnessed the power of the Silence once more and chose to stare fixedly at the silent monster.
Since he understood the Silence's power, next came what Constantine was best at: talking.
"Who are you?" Constantine asked urgently.
The Silence remained wordless.
Like their name, the Silence almost never spoke or made sound. But when they did speak, they could form a strange control, akin to hypnosis or suggestion. To avoid bad situations, the Silence learned to stay silent.
Their existence itself was a secret.
Constantine stared dead into the Silence's large, pitch-black eyes, waiting for an answer.
BANG!
Daimio, off to the side, hadn't had his arm held down by Constantine. Facing an unknown threat, he fired immediately!
As a professional soldier, he wouldn't let the enemy escape his sight repeatedly like Hellboy. So, after bristling, the moment he turned back, he immediately remembered what had happened!
Just as the Silence raised its arm toward him, his gun fired.
The Silence could discharge something like electricity from their hands, enough to easily kill any ordinary life form. Daimio's preemptive strike successfully allowed him to temporarily escape Constantine's "teammate curse." Worth celebrating.
"What did you do!?"
Constantine shouted at Daimio. However, having averted his gaze, he too forgot everything about the Silence.
"What?"
Daimio, because of Constantine's shout, shifted his gaze as well. The moment the threat was neutralized, he relaxed, allowing the subconscious reaction to turn his head.
So now, no one knew what had just happened.
It was Daimio's turn to look at the smoking gun barrel, completely bewildered.
"What did I just do?"
Daimio held the gun, puzzled. Everyone present had completely lost the memory of the Silence.
"I mean, get away from this crack. I'm going to try to mask it with magic."
Constantine shook his head. He felt like something terrible had just happened, but no matter how he thought, he came up blank. So, he could only focus on the crack before him.
He began drawing the magic circle again.
"Is the Stone Sword really in this place? No matter how I look at it, St. Paul's Cathedral doesn't look like a place that could hide anything."
Daimio suspected the B.P.R.D.'s findings, fixing his eyes on the crack. As a famous landmark, if there were any hidden items in St. Paul's, they should have been found long ago.
"You guys say I'm a descendant of King Arthur, right? So could the other side of this crack be where the Stone Sword is hidden? Just like in the comics, only those who are worthy can open the door sealing the treasure?"
Hellboy stopped wondering why he had drawn his gun, casually holstering the custom weapon while speaking. He was certain this crack hadn't been in St. Paul's Cathedral before.
"Read fewer comics, Anung! In my experience, behind these treasures that 'require worthiness,' there's usually an ambitious Archdemon!"
Constantine sped up his drawing of the circle, taking a dig at Hellboy's hobby while calling out Hellboy's True Name.
"Then you tell me where the Stone Sword is!"
Hellboy retorted with dissatisfaction. He wasn't fond of the name "Anung Un Rama."
Constantine's methods were too cautious. Hellboy's brain, barely larger than a walnut, was rattling violently, making him irritable.
"The legend of King Arthur is in the realm of the occult, and the occult must be treated with caution!"
Constantine finished the magic circle and roared at Hellboy.
Just then, a tall, rugged figure with messy golden hair walked into St. Paul's Cathedral from the outside, holding a wooden sign.
Written in large letters on the sign was: THE END IS NIGH.
"I figure you guys could just ask a professional?"
It was Rorschach, whom Bulcatho had left in London. Regarding the previous matter with the Blood Queen, he had already asked the Ancient One.
For this man obsessed with truth and justice, the Ancient One had no intention of hiding anything. Because no one could say whether Rorschach would use his usual methods to interrogate the mages in the sanctum—those junior mages didn't have the strength to defy Rorschach's will.
To save her apprentices some suffering, the Ancient One had told Rorschach—this thorough conspiracy theorist—the location of the Stone Sword not long ago.
"I hate the phrase 'I figure'!"
Hearing "I figure," Constantine yelled angrily at the arriving Rorschach. Then he watched as Rorschach condensed a Hammer of the Ancients and smashed the floor in the center of St. Paul's Cathedral to pieces.
"But, I don't hate you!"
Constantine kept his tone high, then immediately backed down.
Although he hadn't met Rorschach, the skill Hammer of the Ancients left a deep impression. The scene where Mammon and Satan were used as hammer handles by Bulcatho was something Constantine felt he would never forget.
Along with that phrase, "I figure." (Waaagh!)
"Hellboy, get over here! The sword is right underneath."
Rorschach shouted at Hellboy with a frown.
He had no goodwill toward this half-human, half-demon guy; he was even somewhat hostile. But the Ancient One had instructed him not to fight Hellboy, so as not to disrupt Nimue's destined end.
Rorschach pursued the truth. Once he knew the truth, he might be obsessed with making it public. But he would never spread an incomplete "truth" to fool others.
So, he was also waiting for that moment to arrive.
"Constantine, you didn't tell us you had a friend like this."
Daimio whispered to Constantine.
The power Rorschach displayed made Daimio somewhat awestruck. Smashing the floor was something hard to imagine for a big cat.
"This isn't my friend, but it doesn't matter."
Constantine urged Hellboy with a smile. Since a Barbarian was here, he had confidence. After all, Bulcatho was the thickest "thigh" (strongest backer) he knew.
Constantine turned back and began chanting mumbo-jumbo, completing the final step of the magic.
This time, it wasn't magic from Hell or Heaven, but power from Voodoo witch doctors.
Sorcery!
The ceiling of Sorcery was by no means low. There was a guy on Earth calling himself Brother Voodoo whose mastery of Sorcery rivaled the Ancient One before she became Sorcerer Supreme.
Constantine pulled various disgusting items from his pocket, put them in a jar, and stirred. The stench was hard to accept.
As he stirred, the jar began to emit an eerie green glow. Once he poured this stuff onto the circle, the spell would be complete.
Two-way isolation. Any mystical entity below the level of an Archdemon would struggle to detect this place. This was one of Constantine's ace-in-the-hole techniques.
Anyway, no one knew exactly how much stock Constantine had pressed at the bottom of his "box." If his "box" were visualized, it would probably be shaped like a pyramid.
Hellboy glanced at Rorschach with obvious rejection, abandoned the idea of handing him a chocolate bar, and instead pulled a cigar from his pocket. He originally had a good impression of Rorschach, but now it was gone.
Daimio stood not far behind Constantine, keeping a distance.
This was his way of seeking safety. He wasn't a half-demon like Hellboy; his life wasn't tough at all. So, staying a bit away from Constantine was obviously a very good way to protect himself.
"What are you waiting for?"
Rorschach spoke with dissatisfaction. This time he wasn't wearing his mask, so his unhappy expression didn't need to be guessed from shifting inkblot patterns.
He practically had "I am very annoyed" written on his face.
"Alright, jump down, right?"
Hellboy, cigar in mouth, jumped straight down. He saw a skeleton covered in cobwebs and dust instantly turn to ash.
Directly opposite the skeletal throne, a sword embedded in stone lay before him.
Rorschach glanced at Constantine and Daimio, then jumped down as well.
He had an extraordinary stubbornness regarding the "truth."
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