The Demon Hunting Method of the Regressed Inquisitor Chapter 22

The Demon Hunting thod Of The Regressed Inquisitor 22

Festival of the Dead (3)

-Once upon a ti, there was a girl who was loved by all the gods in the old pantheon. She was truly a master of both martial and literary arts. A perfect appearance. The only and most precious treasure in this world, with a beautiful heart to match that appearance.

The ＜Wanderer＞ suddenly started telling an old story.

-It would be hard to deceive you. Yes, that’s right. It’s . So beautiful and so pitiful. Truly an angel-like girl!

“Isn’t it a bit too old to call yourself a girl?”

-I’m eternally 18 years old.

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Did she hit her head when she died?

Or are all dead people like that?

If not, did she go insane after living too long?

If she were human, she would have a sense of sha, but since she’s dead, she doesn’t.

-Oh? By now, shouldn’t you be asking sothing? Whether I’m really an angel, or if I was a saint in life.

“…Such self-praise makes all that trivial.”

– Well, compared to my appearance, everything else is trivial, isn’t it? But since it’s an important matter, let’s address it. As you might have guessed from my appearance, I was a saint and an angel.

I don’t usually say things like this, but there’s no one crazier than her.

– It was a ti of war. When countless demons were stirring for war against the gods. So many people died.

“Demons…?”

– Ah, would it be easier for you if I called them lis?

“Weren’t demons supposed to refer to the first demonic race?”

– That’s not the important part. I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?

“No…”

lis. So there wasn’t just one being like Belial?

Why didn’t I know that?

If she’s speaking to this extent, it must have been a war that spanned the entire continent.

How could such a massive event not have been recorded in history books?

Even if it wasn’t recorded in history books, it should have remained in the form of myths or legends.

– That girl… You’re not listening, are you? The story won’t continue if you leave this question unanswered.

“That’s right.”

– How shaless. Well, let explain briefly. Lord Lost. It’s because of what you do.

“That is…”

The role of the Inquisitor is to exterminate demons and demonic beings, but also to deal with worshippers of evil gods considered heretics.

No, to be precise, this is closer to the original purpose.

Facing demons and demonic beings is not just the job of the Inquisitors; the battle priests of the Holy Order and the paladins of the Holy Knights can do the sa.

So, erasing the traces of evil gods is the unique task of the Inquisitors.

Then, who is the mastermind behind such tasks? Does an evil god simply an a god harmful to humans?

But considering Hecate specifically ntioned it was because of my work…

“The Inquisitors erased that history entirely?”

– That’s right. You erased it. Over many years, you erased the very na of the race that was called demons. In fact, even at that ti, they were more often called demons than gods.

Erasing the nas of the evil gods considered heretics.

Knowing the na ans soone could worship them.

It’s part of that process.

But even the Inquisitors who did that work were made unaware.

Thus, the existence of evil gods was downgraded to demons. Although it was an organization I belonged to, it was incredibly thorough.

If lis is not just an apostle of the evil god, but the evil god itself. Does that an Belial, whom I must defeat, is also a god? Is it possible for a human to defeat such a being?

– Don’t think too highly of gods. They are just beings who can do many things.

It’s blasphemy.

But if I don’t acknowledge it, I can’t move forward.

In fact, many of those evil gods have hidden their existence, so it’s not impossible.

“Then…”

– Stop! That’s enough about that topic! It’s my turn to introduce myself now! If you interrupt any further, you’ll face as a trial.

Hecate protests, slamming her palm on the table rudely.

“…Understood.”

I never thought I’d be threatened for such a petty reason. But given the scale, I have no choice but to keep my mouth shut.

– Many people died with regrets. They longed for their families, hated their enemies, and t a very miserable end.

“……”

– Of course, the gods didn’t abandon those lambs. They guided them to heaven.

“……Were you the one in charge of that task?”

– You’re quick-witted. But you interrupted , so that’s a point deduction.

I must not grow old like that.

– But. But you see. It’s a very sad thing.

“Going to heaven, you an? Is it not a good place?”

– No, it’s the fact that they have to leave for another world with regrets.

“……”

– So I stayed here. I defied the will of the gods.

Trial: ＜The Wanderer＞

I could understand why she was called a trial. It’s not just because she raises corpses by wandering around.

– They are people who wanted to live a little longer. People who wanted to see their family’s faces one last ti. People who wanted to take revenge on those who made them that way.

Click.

Hecate put down her teacup.

Her eyes, which were entirely white, turned completely black, leaving no whites. The sight was eerie, as if filled with bloody tears.

– I am a shepherd who leads those who have regrets.

“……You are a trial. Your compassion makes people sick.”

– That’s right. Regrets are regrets because they are left behind. Solving all of them ans erasing one of the identities of a person entirely.

“Are you still planning to continue doing such things?”

– As long as I exist.

“A nasty ordeal.”

– It’s up to you to overco it.

“Our responsibility…”

Her wandering never ends.

Just as human malice never disappears, there can be no one who dies without leaving regrets.

A problem that must be solved soday but cannot be solved.

“If you overco that, you won’t be human anymore, will you?”

At my question, the ordeal, ＜The Wanderer＞, smiled faintly and said.

– That will be the mont when you are no longer human. Overcoming all ordeals ans reaching Nirvana.

That mont is when a human becos a god.

– Please rest comfortably today. This is a host’s consideration for a guest, not an ordeal.

“…Thank you for your consideration.”

“Wait.”

At the mont when my mind beca complicated.

Titan, who had been silent all along, suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“How strong are you?”

– I’m just as you see. It’s not good to leave regrets. You want to see my skills, right?

“…Let’s go out.”

I don’t want to get involved in a fight between lunatics.

But since they said they would treat us as guests today, they probably won’t kill us. I don’t know anymore.

There are too many things to think about.

* * *

After staying in an unknown room within Necropolis.

“……”

Linea watched the undead wandering outside the window.

She could only tilt her head at the sight of the undead acting like humans in their lifeti.

So were buying and selling food ingredients, while others were trading various daily necessities.

But that was all.

There is no need to eat food, and most daily necessities are unnecessary.

They are already dead, so such things are rely imitations.

“Hmm…”

However, what Linnea was paying attention to was not that. Acting like humans, it made sense. They were humans when they were alive.

They must be acting based on their mories from when they were alive.

“As expected.”

What she was observing were the ghosts and banshees, also known as wraiths.

They had no visible lines. It was only natural when you think about it.

No matter how much she swung her nails or daggers, she couldn’t cut sothing without a form.

Of course, if she used mana, it would be a different story.

“Now I can see them again.”

Linnea might not be able to create an aura blade, but she could at least coat her sword with mana.

Isn’t she a noble? She had received the minimum education. That included self-defense techniques using mana.

“In that case…”

Although it was the family’s policy, she was a prodigy who obtained a dical license at a young age. If it was this level of a puzzle, she could complete the picture.

“…Actually, Mr. Lost might have been a ghost!”

Of course, no one said the completed picture was a perfect portrait.

Admiring her own abstract reasoning, Linnea perked up her ears.

She had established a hypothesis close to perfection. Now all that was left was to prove it.

Linnea imdiately ran towards where Lost was.

Her fluffy tail wagged vigorously in anticipation of solving a long-standing mystery.

“Mr. Lost!”

“Linnea… Ah?”

Gasp!

Lost trembled at the sight of Linnea running towards him like a puppy finding its owner. It was because she was running with a dagger in her hand.

‘What is this, is she telling to commit suicide?’

But could she say such a thing so innocently?

At that mont of confusion,

Lost began to tense up as he watched Linnea start to coat the dagger with mana.

“Hing…”

At that mont, the mana overlaying Linea’s dagger disappeared, and her tail, which had been wagging like a puppy, and her ears, which had been perked up, drooped.

Even though she had overlaid mana on the dagger, Lost still couldn’t see the line.

It was the mont her perfect hypothesis was proven wrong.

“Ah… This, this is for surgery.”

“…Yes, for surgery. Right. It would certainly be useful for treating the causes that plague this world.”

Linea’s complexion turned pale as she realized her fatal mistake. Of course, to Lost, who already knew her power, it was just a cute mistake…

“Actually, staying in the city of the dead is a bit scary.”

Linea quickly constructed a proper excuse.

Lost just nodded at her floundering.

“But what about Claire? Wouldn’t it be better to stay with her?”

“Ah… She’ll be in the room.”

Lost rcifully created an excuse for her to leave.

Of course, Linea didn’t notice such consideration. She had kicked away the path back that had been prepared for her.

Lost sighed and said,

“…Do you want to look around the village?”

“Shall we? I’m looking forward to it. What could be in Necropolis?”

“Really anxious.”

“Sorry?”

“No, I said I’m looking forward to it.”

Lost felt a pang of bitterness at Linea’s clumsy appearance, unable to even rember her own excuse.

It seed that keeping secrets was quite a difficult task.

Should he assist her with it, or just leave her be?

It was a mont when an unplanned dilemma arose for Lost.

* * *

“My body feels light…”

Claire Ryan had been freed from the sensation of being weighed down ever since her encounter with ＜The Wanderer＞.

How long had it been since her body felt this light? The journey had been a burden on her already frail body.

Except for the tis when she was being trained by Lost, she had spent most of her ti lying down. How much of a burden she must have been.

Even if she thought of revenge, she must not forget that she was a burden. She must never forget not only her grudges but also her gratitude.

Claire recalled the fight between Lost and z.

‘That is certain…….’

It was a desperate fight.

Was it the strength to take care of oneself?

It was enough to understand why it was said that way.

That’s the kind of life they had lived.

But carrying the burden of oneself as well, it was clear that the person nad Rost was not just a bad person.

It wasn’t that he wanted to kill Burke. He had to kill him.

That fact was known in the head and could be understood through the human image of Rost.

“But.”

I know. How could I not know?

Claire is not a fool. She survived from the group that persecuted her even with her frail body.

It is not right for her to resent Rost. Burke was a traitor to humanity, and Rost is the one who has to kill such traitors of humanity.

Those who are not upright, who cannot lift their heads even on the day of martyrdom, wishing to be nailed upside down on the cross.

The inquisitors bearing the reverse cross.

Those who do the things that no one wants to do, but soone has to do.

One should not spit out hatred and resentnt towards such people instead of understanding.

But. But still.

“Brother is my family.”

The only family left for Burke is her. Burke didn’t even have anyone he could call a friend.

There is only her.

“If even I do not grieve for brother’s death, if I do not resent the one who killed him…….”

Claire clenched the hem of her skirt. She knew it in her head, but it was sothing she couldn’t help emotionally.

“Who in this world can stand up for brother.”

There is only her.

So she grieves. So she resents.

She may not act on revenge.

The opponent was right. At least on the surface, it seed so.

But Claire must doubt the opponent’s denial. That is the only thing she can do for Burke.

Her brother, who sacrificed so much to protect her. The only thing she can do for such a brother is to constantly doubt and mourn.

“Even so, if it’s here…….”

Claire clenched and unclenched her fists.

In the past, even exerting strength in her body was a struggle. But ever since entering Necropolis, isn’t her body surprisingly light?

“Maybe it can solve the problem.”

Claire hates Rost. She knows he’s not a bad person, but how could she like soone who killed her family?

But it’s shaless.

Rost had secured a carriage larger than necessary for her frail self, and even prepared a separate space where she could lie down, covering it with plenty of soft blankets.

All of this was for her, who was nothing but frail.

How shaless it is to hate soone like that. So at the very least, she must get healthy.

“……”

Claire recalled the angel who had warmly welcod them.

The trial, ＜The Wanderer＞ Necropolis. The ruler of that city of death.

Maybe she would know. The reason why she feels fine now, and how she can continue to feel better.

“I have to et her.”

Claire got up from her bed and quietly left the room.

The place where Hecate was located wasn’t particularly blocked off.

In this city of the undead, who would dare to plot against her?

So she knocked on the door where Hecate was, and when she received permission to enter, she carefully opened the door.

– “Hey.”

Thud!

A greenish lump of at mixed with red was thrown out the door.

– “I won! I can take it. This settles the hierarchy perfectly!”

“……”

Claire glanced at the lump of at that was Titan, who had lost consciousness, and quietly turned her head.

Thanks to that, she could guess that things wouldn’t be easy.