This also reflected, from another angle, just how wealthy the Catholic Church had been at the time. During the Middle Ages, much of Western Europe's wealth was firmly held in the hands of the Church. This was precisely the result of excessive religious authority—royal power diminished, no one truly spoke for the common people, and the masses were thoroughly indoctrinated, endlessly supporting a group of so-called servants of God.
Of course, whether everyone within the Church truly deserved that label was another matter entirely. Any religion had its own mysteries and unique truths, and many things lay far beyond what ordinary people could ever know. What could be stated with certainty, however, was that the Church of that era wielded overwhelming power and enjoyed immeasurable wealth and privilege.
After lighting all the candles, the Archbishop finally came over and sat beside Lucas.
"I have served God my entire life," the Archbishop said softly.
"From a simple cleric, I rose step by step to where I am now. I've witnessed too much, and I've exorcised demons from countless people. The more I learned of these matters, the firmer my faith in God became."
He paused briefly.
"I am old now. I can no longer shoulder the responsibility of exorcism. Before long, I too will follow God's path. Yet there is still so much darkness in this world—darkness that even God cannot completely erase."
As he spoke, the Archbishop summoned a cleric, who handed Lucas a document.
Lucas opened it. It was a briefing on the mission.
In a house on the outskirts of New York, a family of three had recently moved in. The house appeared newly renovated; the white paint hadn't yet been weathered by time.
Their once-happy life was shattered by an accident—just like in any horror film.
The young daughter discovered an altar in the basement. Strange symbols were drawn across the walls and floor. On the altar lay a black leather-bound book, along with scattered bones and grotesque jars containing organs.
The file included several photographs of the possessed girl, as well as a recording device.
Lucas activated the recorder. A series of harsh, unintelligible words spilled out—clearly not the voice of a child—interwoven with the sound of exorcists reciting scripture.
"Archbishop, I don't understand any of this," Lucas said calmly.
"I don't perform exorcisms. All I do is kill."
He made to return the file. Exorcism wasn't his responsibility—demon hunting was. He had no interest in ritual purification.
"These are the other three exorcists," the Archbishop said, producing a tablet. "Take a look first."
Lucas accepted it and began flipping through the profiles.
The first was someone he knew well—Elsa Bloodstone, the so-called monster hunter. Since parting ways at the Bloodstone estate, Lucas hadn't seen her again. He hadn't expected her to be involved this time.
"You brought her in?" Lucas asked, glancing up.
"It seems you know her," the Archbishop replied. "She is the heir of the Bloodstone family."
Lucas nodded. "We worked together before. She's very strong."
He flipped to the second profile. This person was unfamiliar—plainly dressed, appearing to be in his early twenties.
Lucas paused when he saw the name.
Daimon Hellstorm.
"Hm?"
The name felt strangely familiar. Lucas was certain he had heard it somewhere before—perhaps from a television series in his previous life—but he couldn't quite recall.
Then he turned to the final profile.
The moment he saw it, Lucas froze.
The image showed a stocky man with short hair, dressed in traditional robes—it was Wong, a sorcerer of Kamar-Taj.
"This… what is this supposed to mean?" Lucas asked in disbelief.
"The Vatican managed to contact Kamar-Taj?"
"Yes," the Archbishop replied.
"He is a sorcerer from Kamar-Taj. This incident is far too serious, so the Sorcerer Supreme also dispatched someone."
The Archbishop glanced at Wong's photo. He clearly hadn't expected Lucas to know about Kamar-Taj.
"Archbishop," Lucas said seriously,
"tell me the truth—what exactly does this involve? Even Kamar-Taj has been drawn in. This isn't an ordinary demon, is it?"
The Archbishop nodded slowly.
"Correct. This matter is extremely grave. The girl inadvertently released one of King Solomon's seventy-two demons—Amon."
"What?!"
Lucas nearly dropped the tablet.
This was no ordinary exorcism—it was a full-scale war.
Amon was one of the commanders of Hell's legions. Wherever he appeared, countless demons followed. If he fully descended, the result would be utter devastation.
"That is correct," the Archbishop said gravely.
"This has been personally confirmed by the Vatican. The book the girl opened was the Blood Book."
He retrieved a photograph of the leather-bound tome. Even in the image, the material looked strange—its color unlike ordinary leather.
"The Blood Book," the Archbishop continued,
"was written by ancient Jews to worship Amon. The entire book is made from human skin. Every symbol within was written in the blood of maidens. According to records, when the book was completed, an entire city was sacrificed—its souls absorbed into the book. It is a dark scripture acknowledged by Amon himself. Anyone who opens it is deemed his follower and becomes a vessel prepared for his descent."
"Where is the Blood Book now?" Lucas asked, studying the photo closely.
The cover was not pure black, but the dark, eerie hue of dried blood.
"In the Vatican. We fly at noon."
"And the possessed girl?" Lucas asked. "What's her condition?"
"For now, she is stable. We transferred her to a secluded convent, protected by holy relics capable of repelling demons."
Lucas nodded slowly, still staring at the photograph in his hand.
Ten hours later, night had fully fallen.
Lucas and the Archbishop arrived at the Vatican in an official vehicle. The city-state was brightly lit, and after a short drive, the car stopped before a cathedral.
"We're here," the Archbishop said.
"The other three exorcists are already waiting inside."
He stepped out first, with Lucas following close behind.
They proceeded to the second floor of the cathedral. The Archbishop pushed open the doors to a large conference room, where nearly ten people were already gathered.
"Lucas! I can't believe it's really you—we meet again!"
Elsa stood up immediately and gave Lucas a light hug. As former comrades, she had complete confidence in his strength. With him involved, her confidence in their chances rose noticeably.
Wong also stood and embraced Lucas. They had become friends during Lucas's brief time at Kamar-Taj, and even one visit had been enough to form that bond.
"I never thought the Ancient One would send you," Lucas said with a sigh.
"Looks like this situation is far worse than I imagined."
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