The mirror reflected the twisted tree growing, the black patterns unfathomably deep, as if beneath it lay not flesh and bone, but an unreachable abyss.
Lorenzo examined with scrutiny and confirmed no abnormalities before putting on his pajamas. Ever since the Ende Town operation, he had not ignited the Secret Blood with such intensity in a long time. The sensation of this power surging anew felt both strange and alarming to him.
For this reason, he performed such inspections daily.
The bizarre tattoo on his back was a product of the Demon Hunting Order's alchemical technique. This nearly lost craft was even more mysterious than the so-called demons. After all, demons, with their tenacious vitality, always had a few who survived, whereas the alchemists, under the impact of modern steam technology, were reduced to less than one in ten. Perhaps the last alchemist in this world had died of illness on the street, making Lorenzo's tattoo the swan song of this art.
