Chapter 79 – Reunion
The town now lay in peaceful quiet.
Even the surrounding forest shimmered with a holy radiance.
Any ordinary person standing there would feel a profound sense of calm in their heart.
But Azazel felt utterly uneasy.
"The stench of the church…" he muttered.
As someone who had long walked in darkness, blood, despair, and pain were his comfort zones.
From the messages he had received and the state of Ambrose, Azazel knew the three brothers had failed.
He pulled a flesh orb from his pocket, still slick with black blood, and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply.
Only when the metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils did his expression relax.
Then he surged toward the town.
"Bang!"
The asphalt cracked beneath him, a huge crater forming as dust shot into the air.
Azazel scanned the surroundings, his brow narrowing.
He arrived at the forest's edge where it met the town, and there lay a wooden box, a piece of paper affixed to its top.
It read: "Vincent's final words before death. I advise you not to open this."
Reading it, Azazel's eyes narrowed.
It was a simple psychological ploy. The more someone tells you not to do something, the stronger your urge to do it.
Especially for someone like Azazel, powerful and curious, eager to know which faction had ruined their plans.
With a cold expression, he opened the box.
In the next instant, a jet of water shot straight at his face.
A petty trick.
Azazel sneered, showing no intent to dodge.
Black energy began swirling in front of him, quickly solidifying into a protective barrier.
This was the raw force of Rage, nearly impossible to break.
But to his surprise, the barrier vanished the moment it touched the liquid—barely lasting a second.
Alarmed, Azazel staggered back, but the liquid had already splashed onto his left cheek.
Sizzle… sizzle…
Pain shot through his skull like a drill.
He had no time to think and clutched his left eye.
Simultaneously, black energy surged from all directions around his hand, containing the liquid's spread.
Thick white smoke billowed out.
Sweat poured down Azazel's face; he could not afford even the slightest lapse.
It took an immense expenditure of energy to dispel the liquid.
When it was gone, a large chunk of flesh had been burned away from his face, revealing the white bone beneath.
"Hah…ugh…"
Azazel panted, enraged.
"Damn… it's high-aged holy water!"
He hadn't expected the enemy to possess such a high-quality sacred artifact.
"Parish? Exorcism Academy? Or maybe the Vatican?"
He pondered the enemy's identity. At this tier, holy water was exceedingly rare—most people wouldn't even be allowed to touch it.
After catching his breath, Azazel rose once more.
Then he charged toward the Trudy Wax Museum.
Not long after, he pulled a black phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
"Mammon, it's me."
"What's wrong? Your voice… something's off," came the reply.
Azazel recounted the events at Ambrose.
"Oh? Him again?" Mammon responded in surprise.
Azazel raised an eyebrow.
"We've clashed before? Who exactly are they?"
"Samail once encountered a cleric using high-tier sacred artifacts in Hawkins…"
"As for their identity, the cleric is very cautious—left no trace."
"But anyone capable of wielding holy artifacts of that caliber likely comes from one of a handful of places."
Azazel narrowed his eyes, surprised at how much had occurred during his stay at Ambrose.
"The sacrifices for the 'arms' section are insufficient… that man destroyed the wax museum's setup," he said calmly.
On the other end of the line, Mammon chuckled lightly.
"In that case, it's our turn to perform. The Church will fill that gap."
"Understood." Azazel ended the call.
At the same time, sirens sounded from the forest, and numerous lights approached Ambrose from the distance.
Seeing this, Azazel abandoned his plan to destroy the town and quickly vanished into the trees.
---
Earlier, near the Giselle cabin:
As Gideon and his companions entered, a familiar figure appeared beneath a large tree—Simo.
He stared at them in shock, clearly not expecting anyone to survive and return.
"You… this is…"
Before he could speak further, his gaze fell on the wax figure Gideon held.
A warm, familiar aura emanated from it.
"My remains?" he asked uncertainly.
"Exactly."
Gideon casually tossed the wax figure toward Simo.
"Hey! What if you break it?" Simo panicked, quickly flying forward to catch it.
"Doesn't matter. You're already dead. If it breaks, we can just treat it like a building block for fun," Gideon replied nonchalantly.
Simo twitched at Gideon's words but held back, knowing the man had helped him recover his remains.
"What do you want?" Simo asked, wary. Nothing in this world comes free.
Gideon smiled faintly and stepped closer.
"I can pray for your soul, helping you return to reincarnation. But first, you must repent for the innocents who died in Ambrose."
Earlier, when Gideon recited the Lamb Scripture for the restless spirits, he realized that although he could cleanse their bodies of evil, their lingering resentment remained—born of hatred toward Vincent's three brothers.
Simo, forced to act as an accomplice, was not exempt.
If left unchecked, Ambrose could soon become a gathering place for vengeful spirits.
The solution was simple: have the perpetrator sincerely pray and accept the hate of the wronged spirits.
For Simo, already a vessel of evil, a few months of negative emotions would be little more than a fleeting discomfort.
Simo looked at Gideon with suspicion.
"Why are you helping me? And how can you be so sure I'll agree?"
Having lived a life filled with darkness, he saw only black in the world.
Gideon shrugged.
"I'm giving you a choice. You wouldn't want Giselle to die here alone in the forest, would you? By praying for the spirits, you can say goodbye to her in person."
At the mention of his mother, Simo's expression softened, particularly at the latter part—he could not refuse.
Gideon added,
"Of course, you can refuse. But if you do, I'll have no choice but to cleanse you myself."
"You… and you still ask me what I think!" Simo gritted his teeth, but in the end, he agreed. He couldn't make his mother wait any longer.
Gideon nodded and retrieved a Bible from his bag.
---
At Giselle's cabin:
"Knock… knock…"
Outside, a slow series of knocks echoed.
"Coming… I'm a bit slow, please wait," Giselle called, raising her voice as best she could.
She rose from her chair and shakily made her way to the door.
"Who's there?"
As she opened it, her cloudy eyes widened instantly.
"Simo! My child!"
A young boy stood in the doorway, his face beaming just as it had decades ago.
"Mother… I'm home."