The carriage beyond the window rolled farther and farther away, its heavy hoofbeats fading into the merciless silence of the night until they vanished altogether. Along with them went Arthur's wandering thoughts. He emerged from the depths of memory, lowered his gaze, and realized that the black-and-white photograph in his hand had already been crushed into a wrinkled ruin beneath his tightening grip.
That night, Anthony had delivered news of the utmost importance.
Lloyd was unstable.
Yet when Arthur recalled everything that had happened on the battlefield, he found it impossible to reconcile those words with the man he had fought beside. Could Lloyd truly be something so deeply unnatural? Or had the hunter himself long since lost the ability to recognize his own madness?
Of course, Arthur had no intention of accepting Anthony's claims at face value. In the end, they were nothing more than one man's testimony. Even the documents Anthony had produced could have been forged. Arthur would never turn his suspicion toward Lloyd so easily.
As much as he despised that damned demon hunter, they had survived life and death together. Trust was the cornerstone upon which every company was built. After parting ways with Anthony, Arthur remained unconvinced.
But demons were creatures of impossible deceit, and Arthur knew that better than most.
The comrade fighting shoulder to shoulder with you one moment could be consumed by whispered corruption the next. Claws bared, they would turn upon you in an instant, raising the very sword that had once defended your back.
Arthur trusted Lloyd.
Yet Anthony's words had driven a crack through that once-unshakable faith. As a commander, Arthur could not allow such uncertainty to exist.
While opening contact with the Exiles, he ordered Galahad to carry the documents to Shermans for verification. The Exiles' Cardinal knew nothing of Arthur's conversation with Anthony, nor of the conflict between the Purging Order and the Church of the Gospel. He alone could offer an answer free of prejudice.
And the answer came almost immediately.
The moment Shermans laid eyes upon the photograph, recognition flashed across his aged face.
Though the old Cardinal had long since entered the twilight of his years, he remembered him well.
Designation 047.
The one known as Metatron.
The greatest demon hunter among the Metatron Order.
They had stood watch beyond the gates of the Cathedral of Saint Naro, protecting the Pope himself and, on occasion, the Cardinals. They were the closest guardians the Cardinals had ever known.
Shermans could not possibly have mistaken him.
With that single confirmation, Anthony's story had been proven true.
Or rather...
At least the part concerning Lloyd's identity had not been a lie.
Which meant the liar was Lloyd.
But why?
Why had he rewritten his own past into an entirely different tale, weaving a fabricated history that deceived everyone around him?
Or...
Had he been guarding himself from them all along?
That mysterious creation born upon the Night of Holy Descent...
The artifact called the False Holy Grail.
No one understood what it truly was.
No one knew what it was capable of.
Blue Emerald watched Arthur with growing concern.
He remained hunched over, staring at the crumpled photograph with bloodshot intensity. Sweat trickled down his face despite the stillness of the room. Nothing had happened, yet it looked as though some invisible horror was pressing upon his very soul.
Then...
Perhaps that was the answer.
Lloyd knew all of this.
That was why he had hidden himself.
He had deceived everyone simply to bury the secret he had carried out of the Night of Holy Descent.
But if that was true...
How much of the story Lloyd had once told Arthur about that night had been real?
And how much had been carefully manufactured?
Exhaustion weighed upon Arthur like lead.
Anxiety gnawed relentlessly at his thoughts until, at last, he reached a decision.
"Everyone carries a secret that cannot be spoken."
He looked toward Blue Emerald.
There was the truth he himself concealed about Eve.
Blue Emerald's own buried past.
And the unspeakable corruption hidden within Lloyd.
"So... Lloyd lied to you too?"
Blue Emerald asked cautiously.
"And whatever it was... it wasn't something small."
She had no idea what had happened, but after witnessing everything, she could piece together enough to understand the gravity of it.
"I suppose so."
Arthur lowered his head.
"I don't even know whose side that bastard is on anymore."
"But that doesn't make sense..."
If Lloyd truly harbored some hidden agenda...
Then why had he fought so desperately during Lawrence's assassination?
No.
Desperately wasn't the right word.
It had been suicide.
Had everything afterward not happened...
Lloyd would have died there.
Blown apart until not even a corpse remained.
He would have taken every one of those buried secrets into the grave with him.
Arthur raised his eyes.
"Do you think Lloyd can still be trusted?"
Blue Emerald paused.
She considered the question, but before she could answer, Arthur spoke again.
"What is it..."
"What does he actually want?"
"What... does he want?"
She thought quietly.
Her encounters with Lloyd had been few. They had scarcely crossed paths more than a handful of times.
Yet forgetting a man like Lloyd was impossible.
"He hunts demons."
She answered after a long silence.
"That's all I can think of."
"Like a tireless laborer."
"His work is killing demons."
"So he simply keeps killing them—from Florence all the way to Old Dunling."
"Without ever stopping."
Arthur stared at her.
"But what if..."
"What if he himself is a monster?"
Blue Emerald blinked.
"But isn't that exactly what demon hunters are?"
Her answer struck Arthur like a sudden awakening.
She couldn't understand why he had become so troubled.
"The Old Age Divine Armor."
"The Secret Blood."
"We've always borrowed the power of monsters to fight monsters."
"We're monsters ourselves."
"The only difference..."
"...is that we've managed to keep hold of our reason."
She tapped her temple gently.
"The place where sanity still remains."
Arthur let out a weary breath.
"Yeah..."
"At the very least, Lloyd hasn't gone insane."
"Or perhaps..."
"He has been insane for so long..."
"...that he now looks perfectly normal."
Like the patients confined within Black Mountain Hospital.
They spoke normally.
Lived ordinary lives.
Some were even more brilliant than anyone around them.
Yet they were not sane.
They were madmen who had simply learned to disguise their madness while patiently waiting for the day they might escape the asylum.
Arthur gathered his thoughts once more, replaying every word and gesture Anthony had shown that night.
"I need to speak with him."
"Where is he?"
Amid a situation this tangled, Arthur hoped to resolve everything...
...without shedding blood.
...
"It truly has been a long time, Mr. Holmes."
Stepping out of the tightly sealed conference chamber, Lloyd found himself in a pale gray corridor where a familiar alchemist greeted him with an easy wave.
Merlin was still wearing the same tattered gray robe, as though every season of the year belonged to that single garment.
"It has."
"It's been a while."
Seeing Merlin eased Lloyd's mood ever so slightly.
He couldn't understand why Gawain had shown such indifference toward information regarding the Exiles.
What he didn't know was that the Purging Order had already begun cooperating with them. For security reasons, however, the alliance remained under absolute secrecy.
"You seem to have recovered rather well."
"No unusual symptoms?"
Merlin sounded concerned.
Though, compared to greeting an old acquaintance—if they could even be called friends—he cared far more about Lloyd's condition.
To the alchemist, Lloyd was a near-perfect experimental subject.
Had Lloyd ever agreed to it, Merlin would undoubtedly have tested countless bizarre creations upon him.
"I feel fine."
"Nothing unusual."
The unexpected concern made Lloyd visibly uncomfortable, though he knew perfectly well that Merlin's interest lay only in studying his body.
"It appears the flesh has fused with you perfectly."
"Remarkable."
Merlin examined him from head to toe.
He had not been present during Lawrence's assassination, but the written reports alone painted a scene vivid enough for him to imagine every terrifying moment.
According to Celiu's testimony, Lloyd had already died.
Or perhaps...
Half died.
Whatever the precise state, survival should have been impossible.
Yet he had returned.
The Black Angel spiraled out of control, slew Lawrence after he was consumed by the Holy Grail's flesh, then devoured Lloyd himself.
Moments later...
The demon hunter descended upon the world once more.
Like a man reborn from fire.
To this day, no one had uncovered the reason behind the Black Angel's rampage.
As for the Old Age Divine Armor known as the Black Angel...
It had remained sealed ever since, deep beneath the Eternal Pump.
"Come with me."
After one final glance, Merlin motioned for Lloyd to follow.
Lloyd had visited the Eternal Pump only a handful of times, and never once had he been allowed to move about freely.
The research complex, constructed around the massive trunk of the Furnace Pillar, had always been too immense for him to comprehend.
As Merlin led the way, the corridors stretched endlessly beneath their feet.
The farther they walked...
The greater the scale of the place became.
Lloyd recalled hearing people describe Old Dunling by saying that the Institute of Machinery had hollowed out the entire underground city, constructing a colossal mechanical kingdom beneath the streets.
He had once dismissed the claim as exaggeration.
Now...
He wasn't so sure.
Someone had once told him—
Though he could no longer remember who—
That the city resembled a colossal tree.
The Institute of Machinery.
The Furnace Pillar.
The Eternal Pump.
Each built vertically atop the last, piercing through the earth beneath Old Dunling like an endless trunk.
"This place reminds me of the Temple of Stasis."
Lloyd spoke suddenly.
"The headquarters of the demon hunters?"
Merlin asked with curiosity.
Lloyd nodded.
"The Temple of Stasis lies beneath the Cathedral of Saint Naro."
"Just like this."
"The shadow hidden beneath unimaginable splendor."
"I'd love to see it someday."
"The birthplace of the Demon Hunter Order."
Merlin's voice carried unmistakable admiration.
"You really wouldn't."
Lloyd answered without hesitation.
"If I had the choice..."
"I'd never return."
"I don't even want to go anywhere near Florence for the rest of my life."
He made no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice.
"Why?"
"It is your homeland."
Merlin looked puzzled.
"You think something as simple as birthplace can bind me?"
Lloyd laughed faintly.
"I simply hate it."
After a brief pause, he added quietly,
"It's a place full of sorrow."
"I've never liked it."
He suddenly frowned.
"Wait."
"Why am I telling you all this?"
"Where exactly are you taking me?"
Only then did Lloyd realize that, perhaps because he trusted Merlin, he had simply followed without asking.
They had walked for quite some time.
Yet he still had no idea where they were headed.
"Not much farther."
"I just need your cooperation."
"A few examinations."
"And... some research."
Merlin's expression darkened.
"You know this yourself."
"Your resurrection wasn't a miracle."
"It was the Holy Grail's flesh that saved you."
"That thing possesses vitality beyond comprehension."
"Artillery couldn't destroy it."
"Crude oil couldn't burn it away."
"Once Lawrence's will ceased restraining it..."
"...it began growing like wild grass."
Merlin suddenly stopped walking.
There was unmistakable fear in his voice.
"If everything afterward hadn't happened..."
"The Holy Grail's flesh would've continued growing wildly."
"Multiplying."
"Mutating."
"Just like every demon we've ever encountered."
"But instead..."
"It merged with you."
He pointed toward Lloyd's chest.
"Lloyd."
"You may feel perfectly normal."
"But the truth is..."
"You've become exactly like Lawrence."
"You've completely fused with the Holy Grail's flesh."
"The difference is..."
"Unlike Lawrence..."
"It has merged entirely with your own body."
"By sheer proportion of flesh..."
"You've surpassed him."
Even Lloyd found himself unsettled.
He had never truly considered the matter before.
Hearing Merlin describe it so plainly made the reality seem far more terrifying than he had imagined.
"But fortunately..."
"You're far younger."
"Your will is still strong enough to preserve your sanity."
"Unlike Lawrence..."
"You haven't been overtaken by the Holy Grail's primal instincts."
Merlin stopped before an elevator.
The heavy steel doors slid open with a slow mechanical groan, revealing a cramped chamber beyond.
"Come in."
He stepped inside and called back.
Lloyd remained where he was.
His eyes lingered suspiciously upon the elevator.
He was already deep inside the Eternal Pump.
So...
What lay even farther below?
There was one thing he had kept to himself.
Ever since following Merlin, an unsettling sensation had clung stubbornly to him.
Merlin's conversation had distracted him enough to ignore it.
But now...
The feeling had become far stronger.
After only a brief hesitation, Lloyd stepped inside.
The elevator trembled gently as it descended.
Silence filled the confined space until Lloyd finally spoke.
"What's down there?"
Merlin smiled faintly.
"Hmm..."
"Your savior."
"My... savior?"
Lloyd froze.
At that very moment, the doors slid open.
Blinding light poured inside.
He narrowed his eyes against the brilliance and stepped out.
As his vision adjusted, he discovered himself standing within an enormous subterranean chamber.
It resembled a workshop...
Yet unlike the heavily fortified workshops above, this place felt temporary—as though it had been erected in haste.
Steel frameworks stretched overhead.
Researchers moved constantly through the maze.
Rails intertwined with thick suspension cables while massive pulleys groaned under impossible weights, hoisting colossal objects through the air.
The scent of rust mingled with the stench of fresh blood, flooding Lloyd's senses.
An unknown crimson liquid flowed across the floor, washing over his boots before disappearing into drainage grates, carried away toward some unseen destination.
"After that incident..."
"We've spent all this time investigating why it lost control."
"We've found nothing."
"And you weren't the only one who fused with the Holy Grail's flesh."
"So did it."
Following Merlin's words, Lloyd slowly lifted his head.
High above...
Countless chains and strangely constructed mechanical restraints suspended something enormous in the air.
Layer upon layer of black iron feathers folded tightly together, shielding whatever core lay hidden within.
Bathed beneath the floodlights...
It resembled a perfectly crafted black egg.
"...You really were my savior."
Lloyd gazed upward at the Black Angel.
It remained utterly silent.
Motionless.
Like a monument carved for eternity.