The Extinguished Torch

Outer District, East Ilins District, 121A Cork Street.

A week had passed since that insane night. No one had come looking for him, and nothing strange had happened. It was all like a dream; once he woke, nothing remained.

Lorenzo had tried to find Shrike. With his black coat loaded with ammunition, he'd looked ready to slaughter the whole city. Unfortunately, Shrike had no idea what had happened and hadn't shown up for days.

He lay in the bathtub as warm water washed away the weariness in his body. Soaking in the heat, he savored the peace he'd come by so rarely.

Mrs. Fanrude was taking an afternoon nap, and his cheap roommate seemed to be working overtime at the factory, so Lorenzo was the only one in the small house.

Under the dim yellow light, with the sounds of life drifting in from the street, he began to relax. He took a cigarette and drew on it hard. It felt pretty good.

Lorenzo hadn't had anything to do with Fiends for years. His connection to the darkness should have been severed, yet that sinister darkness seemed unwilling to let him go. Just when he was about to forget it, it had reached out and grabbed him.

He climbed out of the tub, wrapped himself in a white towel, and walked into his room, still dripping wet. His wounds were healing. Apart from the more serious injuries, the smaller ones had mostly closed, leaving only streaks of dark red that had yet to fade.

Since that night, neither Shrike nor Eve had contacted him. Lorenzo didn't care about that. At the moment, only a few unanswered questions bothered him.

Wall's abnormality had been confirmed as Fiendification. He had been a crewman aboard the Silver Fish and had come into contact with the mysterious Sacred Coffin. There was no doubt that everyone aboard had been corrupted. In other words, at least sixteen potential Fiends were roaming the city.

The next question was the mysterious organization that had attacked the Underground Palace that night. He remembered encountering a huge clump of Stomach-Chewing Grass in the secret passage, but nothing unusual had happened in Old Dunling since that night. There was only one explanation: the mysterious organization had handled everything perfectly.

From the little he'd seen, Lorenzo guessed the organization was no smaller than the Demon Hunter Order.

What a headache...

Things were gradually becoming clear. This was a clash between two mysterious organizations, and he was the unlucky fool caught in the middle.

The only thing he still didn't understand was Shrike's role in all this. Lorenzo had always thought of him as an underworld emperor, making his fortune through smuggling. But now, Shrike seemed full of questions too.

With a sigh, Lorenzo got dressed, straightened himself up, and left the house.

Winchester was tucked beneath his coat, pressed close to his body. He pulled his black deerstalker down, partly hiding his gray-blue eyes. His Cane Sword had broken during his fight with Sabo, and his new weapon was still being forged at the blacksmith's.

"How unusual..."

He looked up. Boundless light spilled down from the gloomy sky. It was hard to believe that Old Dunling was a little brighter today. The clouds were still there, but at least a few gaps had opened, letting the light through.

Lorenzo had a new life now. He shouldn't have gotten involved in any of this. The best thing to do would be to buy a ticket for a ship going somewhere far away and take a good long rest. But everyone had a line they wouldn't cross. Lorenzo was a rotten man, hardly the sort you'd associate with the word "principles," but he did have a line. It was just very low—about five meters underground.

He stopped at a flower shop on the street and bought a white flower. Humming to himself, he looked as if he were on his way to see a beautiful lady.

He boarded a Steam Tram and watched the scenery slowly roll by, filled with anticipation.

This was one of his hobbies: hopping on a random Steam Tram and riding it all the way to the last stop. Because of the tram's speed and the size of Old Dunling, the trip usually took all day.

Several hours later, Lorenzo finally reached the terminus.

It was rare to find a place not covered by clouds. A ruined church stood on a desolate field, with the steel city not far away. Steam and railway lines were slowly swallowing up the area. In a few years, it seemed, this place would become part of the city of steel.

When Lorenzo had first arrived in Old Dunling a few years ago, there had still been a few priests here. But the people nearby had all gone to work in the city's factories. Little by little, everyone left, until even the priests gave up on the place. Only Lorenzo came by from time to time to visit his friend.

Stepping over weeds and a barbed-wire fence, Lorenzo found the heavily weathered gravestone among a pile of rubble. Its inscription had long since become unreadable. If Lorenzo hadn't remembered, no one would have known it was a gravestone.

"Good morning!"

Lorenzo greeted it brightly, then took the white flower from his chest and laid it at the foot of the stone.

"Every time I come here, I get this feeling of 'Wow, you've been dead for a long time, huh?'"

He showed none of the solemnity of someone paying respects. He acted more like a bitter enemy, pointing at the gravestone and saying, "Bet you didn't expect me to outlive you."

After grinning and joking for a while, Lorenzo seemed to lose his cheer. He hadn't expected to return here one day, as if fate itself had brought them together again.

After a long silence, his gaze turned cold. He drew Winchester and murmured a prayer before pulling the trigger.

"Be sober-minded and alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in your faith."

The low prayer mingled with the roar of gunfire. The solid rock crumbled bit by bit, revealing the sinister thing hidden within. A strange, grotesque illusion swept over Lorenzo, as if he'd just released a devil. But he didn't care. There was nothing left to fear.

The last bullet flew from the barrel. The sturdy casing shattered completely, revealing the black box in full. It had been sealed away for many years, yet its surface was as smooth as if it had just been placed inside.

Dark-gold patterns spread across it, layer upon layer of holy words inscribed upon its surface, singing the praises of God and the divine. Lorenzo picked it up and pressed it into the familiar recess. It opened with a click.

"Long time no see."

A cold gleam filled Lorenzo's vision. In the light, they glittered like diamonds. But when he looked closely, he saw one perfectly crafted blade after another. Like Lorenzo's Cane Sword, each was made simply of a blade and a hilt, slender as a silver nail.

Lorenzo's eyes were reflected in the smooth blades. Fine patterns were etched into their surfaces. Once they met blood, they would make the most crimson of scenes.

The hall was pitch-black, save for a little light falling through the skylight in the center of the ceiling and illuminating the enormous round table.

Looking up at the blue sky beyond the skylight, Kestrel sometimes couldn't tell where he was. This was the Purification Agency's most secret location. Even though he was a high-ranking knight, he was blindfolded every time he came here.

He hadn't traveled far, so he was certain he was still in Old Dunling. But Old Dunling didn't have a sky this blue.

Shrike, beside him, seemed just as confused. Even after all his time with the Purification Agency, he had only visited the Shattered Dome a handful of times. Sometimes he wanted to break the rules and storm out of the meeting room to look around. If he could, today would be a good day to do it. But his injuries hadn't healed properly, and he'd arrived in a wheelchair.

"Our situation is dire."

The voice came from the other end of the round table. The two men could see nothing but darkness beyond the table, but they both knew who sat there.

Arthur, the Knight King and head of the Purification Agency.

Truthfully, the two of them were nervous. What had two mere high-ranking knights done to deserve an invitation to face-to-face talks with Arthur in the round-table chamber?

"What exactly is going on? You've summoned us personally... and one of us is an invalid, too. I take it things are about to get out of hand."

Only then did Kestrel realize there was someone nearby. A reckless voice had spoken up.

The speaker made no effort to hide. Bathed in the faint light, she had a graceful figure and wore a striking blue-purple dress. If she hadn't been wearing that familiar mask, Kestrel would have thought some noblewoman had wandered in by mistake.

"Blue Jade?"

Shrike was surprised to see her here.

"Enough. Save the reunion for later."

Arthur's voice rang out. Though he sounded cheerful, all three immediately grew serious.

"Most of the knights stationed in Old Dunling have been deployed. Our forces are stretched thin, and we still don't know where the enemy is."

"Ever since the Sacred Coffin entered Inverwig, Fiend-related incidents of varying severity have broken out across its territories. The knight commanders are rushing from one crisis to another. This is clearly a diversion. Our enemies in the shadows are trying to protect the Sacred Coffin.

"Lancelot has already set out aboard the Dawn Voyager with the Original Sin Armor to hunt it down. But despite all this time, he still hasn't found much. According to our estimates, we have about a week. After that, there's a good chance the Sacred Coffin will be taken out of Inverwig. We have to find a way to keep it here!"

Eyes burned in the darkness. The voice was calm, but all three could hear how serious the situation was.

"More ordinary people won't help. I need knights who have undergone neural enhancement and can resist Fiend corruption. Unfortunately, we've lost more people than expected. The only ones we can spare in Old Dunling are you three."

"What about Galahad?"

Thinking of his friend, Shrike hurriedly asked. Under normal circumstances, Old Dunling had three knight commanders. Two had been sent to investigate the Sacred Coffin's whereabouts, and Galahad had gone missing after that night.

The voice in the darkness fell silent for a moment before answering.

"Galahad was supposed to lead this operation, but the Perpetual Motion Pump has confined him. Given his physical condition and level of corruption, he can't be deployed for now."

"So you'll lead this operation, Shrike."

"Me?"

Shrike stared at him. He hadn't even fully recovered, and now they wanted him back in action?

"I know this order puts you in a difficult position, but you're the person here who understands the situation best. I need you to lead them. I'll give you all the support I can."

"No... isn't this a little too sudden?" Kestrel added.

They didn't even know what the operation was supposed to accomplish.

"I don't want this either, but we're out of time. According to Lancelot's report, he's found a lead and figured out roughly where the Sacred Coffin is. I don't need you to kill the enemy. I just need you to go there and cause a commotion, keeping them occupied as long as possible. Lancelot will handle the fighting afterward."

Arthur's voice remained calm. It sounded as if he were sending them to their deaths.

"Then why not have Lancelot go there himself?" Blue Jade asked, breaking her long silence. She didn't understand. There was no need to make things so complicated.

A long sigh came from the darkness. After a moment, Arthur spoke.

"Because he can't get back in time. Lately, all the knight commanders have been attacked by Fiends. The relentless attacks have kept them busy. This time, the Fiends aren't even trying to hide. They're after the Sacred Coffin. Even the Dawn Voyager has run out of fuel and is stuck at Raindona Port. It needs to refuel."

"For the first time in all these years, the Fiends have come out in force. We underestimated their numbers, so we can barely scrape together a team of you. You all know that ordinary people will eventually be corrupted if they fight Fiends. That would only give us more enemies."

"No... there must be more to it, right?"

After thinking it over for a long time, Shrike asked slowly. He didn't care about his own life; he had realized there was another danger.

"Inverwig is our home turf. We could bring in the army and crush them with ease. Why go to so much trouble? Are you really worried that the so-called corruption will make the army collapse?"

As he spoke, Shrike rested a hand on the side of his wheelchair. It was a storage compartment, and inside was a gun. In his experience, Arthur had always been utterly rational, never making pointless sacrifices. But today, his words were full of holes, and Shrike couldn't help being wary.

After all, they were fighting Fiends. It wasn't impossible for the leader to suddenly go mad.

"That's true."

Arthur slowly rose and stepped out of the darkness. Weariness filled his eyes. His white hair and wrinkles made the once-handsome man look impossibly old, like a lion in its twilight years, as if he'd just endured a long war.

"I wasn't in such a hurry before. After all, we have the most advanced fleet in the world, and there's no way the Sacred Coffin can escape by sea. But this intelligence changed my mind."

As he spoke, Arthur tossed a file from the other end of the table. The manila envelope bore a top-secret seal. Men of Shrike's and the others' rank had no right to read it.

"Go ahead and read it. It's no longer a secret anyway. Once all this is over, I plan to call a round-table meeting and tell everyone."

He took a cigarette from his pocket. Arthur usually didn't smoke, but when the pressure mounted, he couldn't resist taking a couple of drags, as if he were trying to escape from life.

"I know some of my recent decisions have upset you. Supporting the development of the Original Sin Armor, for example, and carrying out neural enhancement experiments. But I had no choice."

As the pages rustled, everyone seemed to stop breathing. Their eyes were filled with disbelief and fear, until Arthur's voice broke the deathly silence once more.

"Before the steam engine was invented, the Gospel Church controlled the nations. Not because of faith, but simply because they had the Demon Hunter Order. They were the only ones capable of fighting the Fiends. Later, we established the Purification Agency and freed ourselves from the Gospel Church's control. But when it came to fighting Fiends, they were still the experts—the brightest torch in the night."

Arthur's voice trembled slightly.

"Yes. Just as the report says, the intelligence confirms that the Demon Hunter Order officially disbanded six years ago."

"The brightest torch in the night went out six years ago."