Myths Reawakened

A cold moon hung in the night sky. Berlo was more boisterous than usual today, with many SS members roaming the streets in formal uniforms. They seemed to be in a hurry, like they were chasing some notable criminals.

The clues from the helpful public led to nothing.

The first research institute of the Department of Arcane Technology Development was located in a remote mountain in the suburbs. In a forest that was two kilometers from the institute, Wayne put on the Shadow Cloak and said, “Stay here. Even if there’s a fight, don’t make any noise. Wait for my order.”

He wasn’t the star of the day, but Hestia and Derrida were. With two volunteers testing for traps, he wasn’t going to choose battle.

Profiting without drawing attention was the way to go!

“Understood.” x2

After Wayne left, Regina yelped, touching her bottom with a look of shock. “Ottilia, I meant it tonight. I wasn’t lying.”

“I know.” Ottilia nodded calmly.

“How do you know?”

“Last night, you falsely accused Boss of groping you. That annoyed him, so...”

“Wait, how did Boss know?”

“I told him!” Ottilia raised an eyebrow, clearly taking Wayne’s side. “He’s righteous yet merciful. Learning that his secretary had lied, he didn’t have the heart to punish her, so he made the lie real instead. Then you wouldn’t have lied.”

“...”

Regina rubbed her bottom, suspecting that she had been made part of the pair of degenerates’ roleplay.

***

Meanwhile, Wayne easily infiltrated the research institute with the Shadow Cloak, which proved its worth as a treasure passed down through generations by the popes of the Church of Darkness.

He meant infiltration in the proper sense, rather than one made possible by killing all witnesses.

Office→Archive→Safe→Laboratory

Going through the process with ease, Wayne put his pants back on and prepared to leave. But then an official dressed in an SS uniform arrived at the first research institute, personally welcomed by the director of the institute. The two Gold-ranked mages stationed here were also on standby in their offices.

“Such fanfare. That guy seems important...”

Wayne stopped walking, going into hiding with Shadow Cloak while observing the official leading the group.

The uniformed man stood tall and upright, his hair impeccably slicked back. He had hard, sculpted features, a tall nose, and a pair of fierce, hawk-like eyes. His very presence demanded respect.

Based on his epaulettes, he was a division leader.

That didn’t sound like much, but the SS was the Führer’s direct army, which could be equated to a certain commander’s Central Army[1]. A division leader thus had a high status, corresponding to a high-level colonel. Above that would be a major.

August and Finn, whom Wayne had corrupted, were addressed as ‘general’ by Weaving, but they weren’t actually generals. It was simply a title used for those in charge of the research projects. Technically, they were only the equivalent of a lieutenant colonel.

“General Christian, this way, please.”

Roel, the institute director, led Christian into the laboratory. Located tens of meters below the bunker, the laboratory was divided into three floors with two exclusive elevators. Wayne had scouted it out before. The bottom floor was the modification room for demon vessels, and it was empty, not used for any experiments.

The really important data was stored in the locked safe in the archive, which Wayne had replicated.

The elevator rumbled along as it reached the underground third floor. Director Roel put on a long white coat and turned on the power with a group of researchers. The lights illuminated the underground space.

In an instant, the pungent smell of something rotten and sulfurous permeated the air, like it had come from an unseen depth. On the walls were all sorts of strange symbols and patterns, flickering faintly under the light, painting an eerie picture.

Study of Hell!

At the heart of the laboratory was a massive black stone platform. The floor around it was covered in a complex magic circle and all kinds of strange instruments and vials. As the power turned on, and the researchers operated on the machines, the liquid of strange colors in the vials gurgled.

Christian looked at everything with satisfaction, ordering his subordinates to fetch a black briefcase. Inside was a vial of blood, mixing black and red.

“Have you found it, General?” Roel asked, thrilled.

“Yes, this is demonic blood,” Christian said, satisfied with himself. “According to the church records, this is the blood of a demon lord’s descendant in the human world. I’ve spent a fortune on this precious blood.”

Roel rubbed his hands together impatiently. With bubbling anticipation, he adjusted his glasses and said, “How about a suitable test subject, General? Have you brought one?”

“I am it.”

“Um...” Roel’s heart sank. He wouldn’t dare risk Christian’s life. If something went wrong, he would have to take responsibility as the director.

“Why, wouldn’t it work?”

“I’ll be blunt with you, General. I hope you don’t take it personally.” Roel smiled bitterly. “We’ve tested you three times and confirmed that you cannot become a vessel for a demon lord. Your loyalty to the Führer is commendable, and so is your perseverance. Not everyone could survive three experiments intact...”

“Get to the point!” Christian interrupted impatiently.

“It’s a no,” Roel advised. “This is the blood of a demon lord’s descendant. Unlike the previous three experiments, a failure could kill you.”

He was trying to save both Christian and himself.

“We’re going to launch an all-out war against Franc,” Christian said with a steely expression. “Franc isn’t like any other country. Führer needs me, and I’m willing to give him my life.”

His colleagues had been promoted and assigned important missions one after another, while he alone was stuck in an awkward place. At the end of the day, SS did not keep useless people around. Incompetence was seen as an original sin. Loyalty alone wouldn’t land someone a promotion and an important role. He needed power—power that would allow him to prove himself.

“But...”

“No but. They’ve all succeeded. I can do the same!” Christian took off his shirt. His strongly built body was covered in seams.

He handed Roel a vial of demon blood, demanding, “I’ve written my will. If this succeeds, the credit will go to you. If it fails, I’ll take full responsibility.”

Do you think the higher-ups will read your will?

Roel’s heart sank. Under Christian’s hawkish gaze, he had no choice but to lead his team to begin the blood exchange ritual. While he made the preparation, he said, “General, please reconsider. We haven’t confirmed to whom the blood belongs and whether the demon is a demon lord. If the church’s records are inaccurate—”

“Shut up and get on with it. I’ve put my life on the line. What are you afraid of when I’m not afraid?”

You’ve put my life on the line, too!

Roel’s face scrunched up. He knew that the decision was out of his hands, and he could only pray to the Heavenly Father to grant Christian’s wish of becoming a perfect vessel for demon lords—and for him to survive the process. Otherwise, Roel would go to hell with him.

Given my intelligence, I’ll be helping the enemy if I go to Hell. You don’t want Hell to become stronger, do you, Heavenly Father?

Roel put on the black robe and beak-like gas mask that a researcher handed him. He looked like a doctor from the time of the plague, with an insidiousness from a bygone time.

The two Gold-ranked mages stayed in the laboratory on the first floor in case someone barged in and interrupted the experiment. Meanwhile, Wayne stayed behind the crowd, watching the modification from a close distance. Prussian’s method appeared different from Windsor’s.

Though he had dealt with many demons, he had never developed a demon vessel. All his data came from the headquarters of the Windsor Ministry of Magic and from his scavenger hunt.

With his solid theoretical knowledge, he could tell that Windsor’s way of creating a vessel was gentle, relying on chance. In other words, they would make the summoning calls, but it was the demon lord who would decide whether they wanted to pick up. If no demon lord responded, another call would be made.

The Prussian way was the opposite. It was akin to them breaking down a demon lord’s castle with a battering ram and shouting, “Open up. It’s the SS!” before forcing the demon lord to put their bloody handprint on the contract.

It was quite radical!

Windsor’s way was a prayer, while Prussia’s way was a forceful summons. Since Wayne had the time, he decided to wait and see what more they could do.

The researchers got in place and turned on the power. Following a deafening roar, the machinery buried underground rumbled to life, with a magic circle activating and providing energy.

That was why Wayne called them radical. Other people prepared fine cigars, fine liquor, and fine women as a tribute to summon a demon, while Prussia might as well be lighting an electronic incense stick without even a virgin sacrifice. How could they possibly summon a demon lord like this?

Do you think a demon lord would descend to look at the LED light?

While Wayne muttered to himself, the rumbling geothermal energy converted into mechanical energy and then to electricity, empowering the magic circles. The scorching heat gradually receded.

An oppressive, eerie atmosphere filled the air. A strange, chilling wind let out a ghostly shriek. It felt as if something terrifying would climb out from underground at any moment.

Christian lay on the stone platform with his limbs bound by metal shackles. He couldn’t help but shudder when he heard the strange scream.

“Roel, why didn’t the previous experiments cause such a commotion?”

“I don’t know the reason, General,” Roel tried to convince him for one last time. “Why don’t we give up before it’s too late?”

“...”

“General?”

“Keep going!”

Christian pondered for a moment, but made up his mind to pursue power to the bitter end. While Roel believed it was a bad omen, he disagreed.

It was a good omen, definitely a good omen!

From the corner he was hidden behind, Wayne breathed out the good omen.

Since Christian insisted on dragging Roel to hell with him, Roel conceded. He drew a cross on his chest. Once the magic circle was charged up, he divided the demon blood into six syringes. Then he beckoned five researchers over to administer the blood to Christian.

Automatic injection hadn’t yet been developed.

With the blood injected, Christian’s skin quickly hardened and blackened like a carapace, with red blood vessels bulging up. His eyes turned a sickly yellow, their pupils thinning into slits. An unbearable pain spread through his body, making him scream and howl in pain.

Roel ignored the reaction. He retreated from the magic circle with his team of researchers. The ritual could not be terminated once it began, no matter how much Christian screamed.

He still stood a chance of surviving by continuing the experiment. If it terminated, he would die for certain.

As Roel flipped the switches, the colorful liquid in the vials bubbled like boiling water, and the pungent smell of sulfur thickened in the air. The instruments surrounding the magic circle boomed, streaming the liquid into the etched lines of the magic circle.

Suddenly, the entire magic circle glowed with black light, with rising black smoke.

“Such a volatile energy reaction. Perhaps it’ll really work...”

Roel was ecstatic. He saw numerous faces popping out of the black smoke, each a sinful representation of the Seven Deadly Sins. As long as the magic circle stabilized Christian’s physical body and integrated him with the demon blood, he would become another useful vessel, and he would be more powerful than any other vessel before him.

Yes, that was certainly the case!

1. A reference to Chiang Kai-shek, who led the ROC with an army he had assembled against Japan and later the communist party. ☜