Chapter 63

The transmission cut off not long after.

I immediately pulled up the last ping from Kang Ha-neul’s smartwatch.

Along the Gyeongbu Line where the Special Unit had been heading south—right at the corridor from Daejeon to Daegu.

It wasn’t far from here.

“What the hell was that just now? Shouldn’t we rush in and save them?”

“…….”

“Hey, get it together! We’re going to be too late at this rate!”

Seo Chae-rin, who had heard the radio beside us, kept pressing, but none of us answered.

After a moment’s thought, I loaded Cheon So-baek’s bag onto the boat and spoke to Seo Chae-rin.

“Let’s head out. We’re going back to Seoul as planned.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?”

Judging from the fact that every siege turret we’d deployed on the front line had gone silent, it was safe to assume all of Division 3 had been cut off.

Even if another unit was nearby, it would take time to form a proper rescue team and move them to the site.

But instead of going to Daegu to link up, I said we should return to Seoul as originally planned.

Cheon So-baek seemed to have come to the same conclusion. She walked past Seo Chae-rin without slowing.

“Hayan is right. Our mission is over. We should get on the boat, return, and wait for the next orders.”

“We might be too late if we do that…”

“Ms. Chae-rin.”

When Cheon So-baek called her by name, Seo Chae-rin froze in surprise. So-baek kept her voice tightly controlled.

“Going back to Seoul quickly is the correct choice.”

“Why? You two…”

“A Special Unit agent doesn’t let emotions ruin the job. We aren’t carrying only our own lives.”

Neither I nor Cheon So-baek had any intention of coldly abandoning our comrades.

We were holding ourselves back.

Charging into enemy lines without backup when we hadn’t even grasped the situation would most likely make the damage worse.

More importantly, we were in the middle of a classified mission for the Special Unit.

Even exposing ourselves carelessly could imply that Seoul’s defenses had a glaring hole.

Realizing, a beat late, why we were desperate to return to Seoul without delay, Seo Chae-rin started the boat.

Under a heavy mood.

As the coastline receded, Cheon So-baek sat beside me and spoke quietly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I was worried I’d have to persuade you too, since they’re comrades from the same unit who are in danger.”

“I can tell when to act on emotion and when not to.”

I was a cold-blooded Apostle of an Outer God.

I worried about my colleagues, but for now, all we could do was trust and wait.

Thanks to the tentacle turrets, we had realized quickly that Division 3 was under attack, so the damage shouldn’t be too severe yet.

And we weren’t the only ones in Busan who’d received the transmission.

“Still, making the call faster than me was the right move.”

“Do you think they’ll be all right?”

“No one at the Bureau assumed restoring the Gyeongbu Line would be incident-free. By the time we arrive, a rescue team will already be en route.”

About half a day later.

Thanks to Seo Chae-rin’s fast piloting, we reached Seoul before the date flipped.

Just as Cheon So-baek predicted, the rescue teams had already departed.

Most of Division 3 were missing somewhere near Daegu.

That included Kang Ha-neul, Alexei, and Yoo Se-byeol.

With almost everyone gone from Seoul except Seona and Moon Ah-rin, we couldn’t afford to let the defenses thin any further.

I was ordered to stand by.

In the dorm, where you could see the haste in the traces they’d left behind.

Sitting on the lower bunk Alexei used, my Outer God approached and asked me:

『Fear?』

“Afraid? I am a ruthless Apostle of an Outer God who possesses no such human thing as a heart. Fear is…”

『…….』

…something I’d be lying about if I said I didn’t have it.

Every choice I’d made up until now.

If even one of the choices I hadn’t made—or had made—was wrong, and because of that, the people precious to me died—

No matter how hard I had crawled through the Demon Realm, in the end I had only managed to keep my Outer God and myself alive; I had never properly learned how to handle a situation like this.

But now, that alone wasn’t enough.

“I’m afraid, but I can’t sit here being afraid. There has to be a way I can help them, even now. I need to find it.”

Quietly. Slowly.

A white tentacle slipped from my sleeve and patted my head as if proud of me.

It felt careful and gentle, like back when I first fell into the Demon Realm—when she first taught me how to use my ability.

Each time I found a new revelation in despair, my Outer God had always guided me with care—making sure I could put that knowledge to use.

This time was no different.

『Fear not.』

“Mala-nim?”

Do not rush. Do not be afraid.

As always, my Outer God spoke with calm authority—and placed something glowing like a yellow sun in my hand.

“This is…”

It was the same ring I had received from Flauros in the Sea of Decay.

“Hmph, so it’s that time again.”

Ground Zero — Headquarters of the Cult of the Void.

Velada entered the last stall in the chapel’s restroom.

It was the safest place she could think of to leave her body before the upcoming Council session.

“She went in here, right?”

“Hey! Velada-noona’s taking a dump!”

“Ugh, what’s that smell? Did a chemical bomb go off?”

“Shut up, you little brats!”

“Eek! What is this!?”

“She threw poop at me! Sister, help!”

As always, the orphans with demon blood came to tease her—but this time, she was prepared.

She had preemptively molded some chocolate pies into lumps and threw them at the kids, successfully driving them away.

Once their footsteps faded, Velada carefully took out the pair of shoes she had brought from her room.

They were her most cherished possession—the first gift from her contractor, worn only on special occasions like today.

“He wouldn’t have abandoned this body and run away, would he?”

The session was about to begin, yet there was no word from Patel. He must’ve been busy with something.

Still, the last time he visited, she had told him how to enter the Council using the invitation—so they’d surely meet inside.

Sitting on the toilet, she focused her mind, and soon her consciousness drifted away.

When she opened her eyes again, she was standing safely within the Council chamber.

“You there, witch.”

“Yes~? What can I do for you?”

“Give me a copy of this quarter’s paper.”

She approached one of the witches who had spread out stalls across the alleyways.

When she pointed at the newspaper on display, the witch smiled brightly and held out her hand.

“Two Ancient Coins, or payment of equal value, please!”

“My contractor will pay when he arrives.”

“Two Ancient Coins, or payment of equal value, please!”

“I said he’ll pay later!”

No one could talk their way out of payment with the witches—the lowest and most money-grubbing of all demonkind.

Velada, who didn’t have a single coin on her, crouched to read the headline anyway.
Immediately, the witch hopped over the counter toward her.

“Wh–what do you think you’re doing!?”

“You’ve looked at the cover, so that’ll be 0.5 Ancient Coins—or three grams of Lady Velada’s horn, equivalent in value!”

“What!? You greedy harpies! How dare you utter such blasphemy to a servant of an Archduke—!”

The witch was holding a cheese grater.

“I’ll collect by force!”

“Gyaah! Don’t do that! This is my last horn—don’t grind it into powder!”

“I’ll collect! I’ll collect!”

“Hmm? Isn’t that Lady Velada?”

Just as the nearby witches swarmed in, ready to harvest her horn for ingredients, an elderly butler with a monocle—Aldrick—appeared and saved her.

Holding the crumpled newspaper, Velada sat down on a nearby bench and stroked her horn with a look of pure relief.

“Thank you, Al. I owe you one for this.”

“Think nothing of it. But your contractor seems absent. Has something urgent come up?”

“How should I know! That bastard!”

During every Council session, countless reports poured in from demons across the world. One couldn’t afford to let their guard down even for a moment.

And yet Patel was nowhere to be seen—probably lazing around somewhere.

Unfolding the paper, Velada scanned the headlines about the aftermath of the Sea of Decay’s overflow.

Among them was news that shocked even her, who had lived for centuries.

“Gargantua… destroyed?”

“Yes. It seems its fate ended at the eastern edge of the Eurasian continent.”

“So that beast can die after all.”

“A pity, truly. Many Archdukes nearly lost their lives trying to tame it.”

Aldrick stroked his beard wistfully, clearly thinking of his master, Trishy, the Chairwoman of the Council.

At his sentimental sigh, Velada cut him off coldly.

“The fate of a monster too powerful to be tamed always ends the same. If it can’t rise to the rank of an Archduke, it must break its own horn and fall.”

“…You mean, like you, Lady Velada?”

Aldrick asked carefully.

She froze for a moment, then pretended not to hear and flipped to the next page with forced nonchalance.

“Something like that. Nothing else here seems important.”

“The manifestation of the Archduke of Flames is quite the event, though.”

“I already heard about that from my contractor. Hmph… the rest are reports of a missing Yellow Tower informant and an assault on the Special Unit by Norkel…”

The Yellow Tower incident was clearly Karzos’s group failing again. She’d make sure to laugh at them later.

But the Special Unit attack was ongoing.

Norkel, like Velada, was one of Archduke Gamigin’s familiars—part of the Seat of Flame.
A young upstart, ignorant of the ancient tongue, who once mispronounced “you’ve worked hard” as “mackerel-shimnida,” and “pardon?” as “grapefruit soda?”.

In short, rude and ridiculous—but still someone with considerable influence in Korea.

“They collapsed the Gyeongbu Line tunnel and buried the recovery team… but how? The bedrock there is solid. It shouldn’t be easy to form such a trap.”

“I heard they forcibly summoned a Gate underground.”

“Oh, you idiots!”

The moment she heard how Norkel attacked, Velada nearly fainted.

The land beyond a Gate was demon territory. Forcing a summon like that would damage even Gamigin’s domain in the Demon Realm.

“This won’t do. I’ll have to say something when I enter the Council.”

“Perhaps let it go. The youngsters were only being… ambitious.”

“Al, that lenient attitude is exactly your problem. Would Lady Trishy have tolerated their recklessness?”

“Certainly not. But my mistress has not yet fully manifested.”

It was a reckless act—one that could damage the Dimensional Core itself.

But Velada had no authority to stop Norkel. Among familiars, there was no true hierarchy. Power and influence ruled—and she currently had neither.

Aldrick knew that too, which was why he’d tried to soften the situation.

“Unlike my mistress, who represents the Seat of the Abyss, the Seat of Flame has no current representative. If you wish to persuade Norkel’s group, Lady Velada, you must stand above them.”

“Hmph! I’m well aware of that! I’ve been preparing ever since those Karzos fools dared to ignore me last session.”

“Truly?”

“O-of course! You think I’ve been wasting time outside?”

In truth, her physical body was still sitting in a flooded restroom stall with a bucket of water dumped over her—but Velada spoke with all the dignity she could muster.

The Seat of Flame was a fractured faction—made up of demons who belonged neither to Silence nor the Abyss. If one could gather even a small measure of power, it wasn’t hard to seize leadership from within.

“I’ve been monitoring the Apostle of the Outer God’s base. And my contractor—he’s been rising in fame lately. If it comes to a vote, there’ll be no problem at all!”

“Hmm… that does make sense.”

Even among demons, Patel’s name had spread fast.

He had crafted his own Incarnation shell and had stood up to Karzos’s group at the last Council—a remarkably bold act for a black mage.

Though he’d lost in the Sea of Decay to the so-called Saint of Salvation, that had only been because his opponent was too powerful.

In fact, considering that the Saint was now regarded as one of humanity’s greatest living powers, Patel was admired for having rescued Flauros—a newly manifested Archduke—from the worst battlefield unharmed.

“He may be human, but with his full support, it wouldn’t be impossible.”

“Right? Right~?”

Beaming as though she herself had been praised, Velada hopped down from her chair in delight.

Then, from afar, a familiar shadow approached.

“Ah! Patel!”

Tall frame, black robe, mask shaped like a swirling vortex with hollow eyes—she recognized her contractor instantly and rushed toward him.

“Why are you so late? I almost turned to dust waiting—huh?”

“Give us tentacles! Please! Just one strand!”

“Please! Share one with us too!”

Around him, a crowd of witches had gathered, reaching out their hands.

And a few steps behind him walked a woman in clothes wreathed in blazing fire—poised, radiant, unmistakable.

“Haha, take as many as you want. In return, I only ask that you lend us your support in the Council.”

“We will! We will!”

“The next representative of the Seat of Flame can only be one! The Archduke of Flames herself—the Great Duchess of Commerce, Lady Flauros, who will even guide the prosperity of the witch society!”

“Waaah! Long live the Archduchess of Commerce!”

“……!”

Velada stood frozen, overwhelmed by the shock.