Beneath the pitch-black curtain of night, searchlights swept the land at random. Their blinding beams were like the pupils of giants, probing the darkness for the aberrations lurking within.
It was already deep into the night. The air should have been bitterly cold, yet the surrounding machines roared as they worked, vast quantities of steam venting from their engines, scorching the skin with a faint, searing heat.
Because of Lloyd's forceful intervention, the ordinary carriages of the Radiance train had been reduced to little more than charred, skeletal frames. Fortunately, they had never served much purpose to begin with. Heavy cranes—several meters tall—were brought in, iron hooks crashing down to haul the wreckage from the rails. From the shadows, armored carriages prepared in advance were lifted and set into place one by one.
"So many dead… how are we supposed to deal with this?"
Eve stared at the ground littered with burned corpses, sorrow lingering in her voice. They were demons now—but only a few hours ago, they had been living human beings, each with a life of their own, families, hopes.
None of that mattered anymore. They were dead. Soon, perhaps no one would even remember them, slipping away in silence.
"We have a department dedicated to handling the aftermath. Leave it to them."
By that, Red Falcon meant the secret unit known as the Cleaners. After every demon-hunting operation, they were the ones who swept the battlefield clean—erasing contamination and dealing with everything that followed.
Most of them were retirees from the Purification Agency: veterans who still retained their knowledge of demons, reassigned to a post where they no longer had to fight on the front lines, quietly growing old.
A truly "conscientious" organization—never quite letting people go, even after retirement.
The girl crouched at the edge of the platform, head lowered, no one knowing what thoughts were turning over in her mind.
After overhearing the conversation between Lloyd and Shrike, she had begun to understand. These people belonged to a secret organization dedicated to combating demons—the Purification Agency—directly answering to Queen Victoria herself.
Its internal hierarchy followed the myths of Ingilvig, modeled after the Knights of the Round Table: Knight Commander, High Knights, Lower Knights, and Apprentice Knights. The likes of Red Falcon, whom Eve had met, were High Knights—resistant to demonic corruption and forming the backbone of the organization.
"So that means you're also headed to End Town?" Lloyd asked, watching the bustling crowd—and Eve, crouched alone in the corner.
"Yes."
Shrike clearly had no intention of elaborating, replying with a curt answer.
Lloyd, however, found this mildly amusing. He turned to Shrike and said,
"We need to exchange intelligence. And besides, wasn't this entire affair something you commissioned me to investigate in the first place?"
Without Shrike's request, Lloyd would never have been drawn so deeply into this incident. In a sense, Shrike had set all of this in motion.
"I've traced the lead. That thing is called the Sacred Coffin, isn't it? It's lying in a place called End Town, waiting for us to retrieve it."
"I didn't expect you to uncover that much."
Shrike showed little surprise—only mild admiration. He had always held Lloyd in high regard; if Lloyd hadn't uncovered information this deeply buried, that would have been the real surprise.
"Well, I am a detective," Lloyd replied.
"A part-time demon hunter?"
"More precisely, a former demon hunter. I'm retired."
Shrike let out a cold snort, clearly unconvinced.
"Demon hunters retire?"
"They do. I got tired of that life, ran off to Old Dunling to start anew. Every word of that is true."
Lloyd spoke with a hint of nostalgia. There was truly nothing worth missing about the days of bloodshed and killing—like a poorly written novel, read once and then forever abandoned on a forgotten shelf.
"Shrike, we need to help each other. That Sacred Coffin is dangerous—truly dangerous."
The easy tone shifted, edged now with a flowing, latent hostility. Shrike frowned slightly.
"And why do you think that?"
From the moment Arthur—or Galahad—had handed him this mission, Shrike had never truly known what the Sacred Coffin was. Perhaps not even his superiors knew.
"Simple. Intuition… the intuition of a former demon hunter."
Lloyd gazed into the depths of the blackened sky, where endless demons hid within that abyss.
"So you don't know what the Sacred Coffin really is either?"
"And why would you assume that I do?"
Shrike stared at Lloyd intently. After a brief moment of thought, he decided to reveal a deeper layer of intelligence.
"Because the Sacred Coffin originated from the Demon Hunter Order."
A flicker of surprise passed through Lloyd's eyes, yet he nodded as though he had already expected this.
"As I thought. When I realized it was a highly contaminating artifact, the Demon Hunter Order was my first suspicion. Only the Secret Blood technology has that kind of trait."
"But you don't actually know what it is."
"Which means it was created after I left the Order—or it's something beyond my clearance. Or perhaps it's just an external codename."
Lloyd analyzed calmly before concluding,
"Those are the only three possibilities."
Only then did Shrike truly reassess Lloyd. His unease toward him stemmed from several things. First, Lloyd had concealed his identity as a demon hunter for six full years—without today's events, Shrike would never have guessed it.
Second was Lloyd's relationship with Eve. Given her特殊性, Shrike couldn't help but suspect ulterior motives. And every demon hunter carried Secret Blood. Without Old-Era Divine Armor, Lloyd was the strongest single combatant present—and if he ever lost control, he would be more lethal than any divine armor.
"Let's hope you don't cause trouble during this brief cooperation," Shrike said at last, somewhat helplessly.
"And Eve?" Lloyd shifted the topic back to her.
The girl still crouched at the platform's edge, watching the heavy carriages being hoisted onto the rails—a deadly steel python slowly taking shape.
"You value her highly, and she carries Secret Blood. So the Purification Agency has replicated Secret Blood technology as well, hasn't it?"
"I hate talking to you," Shrike replied flatly. "You know too much."
He avoided answering directly. For a sharp-minded detective like Lloyd, the world held no secrets—something that left Shrike constantly on the back foot.
"I won't dig any deeper," Lloyd said. "I understand you. On the road to confronting fear, martyrs are necessary—and everyone here is one."
Including Lloyd himself: burdened with lethal Secret Blood, forever hunted by the demons born of darkness.
"And one more thing—relax. Until those damned demons are dead, we're on the same side."
"That's exactly why I'm uneasy, Lloyd," Shrike replied coolly.
"You've always longed for a new life. For that, you dumped countless corpses into the Thames, reshuffling the entire Lower District as an outsider.
And now you've returned to your past—wielding demon-hunting weapons, not even afraid of us. You do realize that to us, you're nothing more than a living intelligence source. Once this is over, we might lock you in a cell for life, extract everything you know, and replicate Secret Blood technology from your body."
From the Purification Agency's perspective, after the fall of the Demon Hunter Order, Lloyd was the only remaining hope for reproducing Secret Blood—an existence doomed to an inhumane experimental fate.
"I know," Lloyd said calmly. "But as I said, even so, I'm still a martyr on the path of confronting fear. I don't care about any of that. All I care about now is the Sacred Coffin. Those so-called demons must be purged—completely."
Lloyd seemed to have seen through everything already, meeting Shrike's gaze as though aware of every secret.
"There's still something you haven't told me, isn't there?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Demon Hunter Order no longer exists."
Watching Shrike's reaction, Lloyd nodded in satisfaction. Shrike had never been good at hiding his emotions—at least, not well enough. Lloyd now knew everything he needed.
"I lived peacefully in Old Dunling for six years. Given the Order's habits, someone would've come for me sooner or later. Demon hunters don't retire—retirement means dying on the hunt.
Yet I'm still alive. The only explanation is that they no longer exist."
With a confident smile, Lloyd continued,
"The Demon Hunter Order is gone, but demons remain. That's why—even knowing how this ends—I still choose to step forward."
A shrill iron whistle pierced the night. The armored carriages were fully assembled. Soldiers boarded the massive steel serpent in orderly ranks. Blue Emerald stood outside the carriage with Eve, both of them looking toward Lloyd and Shrike, waiting.
"So that's your reason?" Shrike asked, surprised.
"Yes. This world needs a second Demon Hunter Order. That's why I exist."
Lloyd patted Shrike on the shoulder, grinning.
"So—moved by my noble spirit?"
"To be honest," Shrike replied flatly, ignoring Lloyd's deflated expression,
"when an unreliable lunatic suddenly turns noble, it only makes people more cautious."
And with that, the conversation came to an end.