Daimon was engulfed in hellfire, trident in hand, looking every bit like a great demon of Hell. For a moment, it was hard to tell whether he or the demonized nuns were the real demons.
Elsa, by contrast, was far more composed. She didn't engage in close combat at all. The longsword Ulysses had left her remained sheathed, while she calmly raised the rune-engraved hunting rifle and fired again and again, each shot precisely dropping a demon nun.
Lucas spread his hand, and countless wind blades burst forth, shooting in all directions. At the same time, green spectral claw-shadows appeared one after another, relentlessly harvesting the demons around him. Not a single demon was able to come within three feet of his body.
"Hellfire!"
Daimon suddenly roared. In an instant, violent flames erupted from his body, expanding outward like a blazing ring. Any demon touched by the fire was instantly reduced to ashes.
In just a few breaths, every demon inside the prayer hall was incinerated by the hellfire. The monastery fell silent once more.
"Are you alright?"
Elsa stepped forward and helped up the heavily panting Daimon. He was drenched in sweat, clearly exhausted, and the bracelet on his wrist had once again burned his skin black.
Daimon shook his head. "It's nothing. Just drained."
"Honestly," Lucas said, glancing at Daimon's wrist, "that bracelet of yours—if you ask me, you'd be better off taking it off. It suppresses your strength and hurts you at the same time. What's the point of keeping it?"
If the Church had tried to put something like that on him, Lucas would have flipped the entire Vatican upside down and erased it from the map.
"I can't," Daimon replied, instinctively touching the bracelet. "It's part of my agreement with the Vatican. As long as I wear it, they guarantee my sister won't be targeted by demons."
If it weren't for his sister, he wouldn't wear this thing even if he were paid to.
Lucas shrugged and said nothing more. Family matters weren't something an outsider should comment on.
After a brief discussion, the four split up and conducted a thorough search of the entire monastery. Once they confirmed that there were no survivors and no remaining demons, they regrouped at the dock where they had first landed.
Their boat was still there, miraculously undamaged, ready to take them away.
"Did you find your sling ring?" Lucas asked Wong, who was holding Jenny, as they boarded the boat.
Wong shook his head. "No. Looks like I'll be punished again—probably sent to watch over the library."
Lucas burst out laughing. Wong's aggrieved expression made him look like a scolded child.
The engine started, and Daimon slowly steered the boat away from the island.
"I don't think there's any reason for this monastery to continue existing," Lucas said, gazing at the island growing smaller in the distance. "Let everything here come to an end."
He raised his hand.
Magic surged violently from within him, and a black vortex appeared high above the island.
"Zodiac Meteor."
Lucas spoke softly.
From within the vortex, a blazing crimson meteor slowly emerged, then slammed straight down toward the monastery.
Boom—!!
A massive mushroom cloud rose into the sky. Under the impact, the island began to sink into the sea, and the monastery was obliterated in an instant.
The explosion and the island's collapse churned the previously calm sea into violent waves.
"Get out of here—now!" Elsa shouted.
She knew that a massive whirlpool would soon form, and their boat would stand no chance if they lingered.
Lucas instinctively shrank his neck. He had completely overlooked what would happen after the island sank—a vortex capable of swallowing everything.
Daimon pushed the throttle to its limit, fleeing the area at full speed, terrified they might be dragged into the depths if they were even a moment too slow.
They escaped the danger zone without incident. Only then did Daimon slow the boat and resume normal sailing.
By the time they reached the harbor, it was already past midnight. Jenny was still unconscious as Wong carried her to meet the Church personnel waiting at the dock.
When informed that the monastery had sunk, the Church representatives were visibly shocked. But when they learned that every nun—including the purple-robed archbishop—had been possessed by demons under Amon's command, they were utterly stunned. The idea that a purple-robed archbishop could fall to demonic possession was simply unbelievable to them.
Lucas had expected this reaction.
The Church's arrogance made it impossible for them to accept that their own clergy—devout believers, messengers of God—could be corrupted by demons.
Only after watching the recorded footage did they finally have no choice but to accept the truth.
That very night, an urgent report and the video evidence were sent to the Vatican.
Before long, orders came down from the Holy See: the agent was to bring Lucas and the others back to the Vatican immediately.
Early the next morning, the four boarded a Church jet once more and returned to Vatican City.
They dozed fitfully on the plane and were in poor spirits, sitting listlessly in the conference room afterward. Lucas even had his eyes closed, on the verge of falling asleep.
Soon, a cardinal entered the room.
"I have reviewed the footage," he said solemnly. "Regarding this incident, the Church offers its deepest apologies. This was our failure—we did not discover that a purple-robed archbishop had been possessed by a demon."
After viewing the footage the night before, the Vatican had convened an emergency meeting. Even the Pope had been alerted. A high-ranking clergyman being possessed by a demon—let alone willingly serving one—was the first such case since the dark ages of the Middle Ages. It was enough to shake the entire world.
The Pope immediately ordered the incident sealed. To the outside world, the monastery would be reported as having sunk due to an earthquake.
At the same time, the four hired exorcists were to be recalled. No matter the method, the Church was determined to ensure that the truth did not leak. If necessary, any means would be used.
Seeing that none of the four spoke—each of them looking half-asleep—the cardinal quietly began weighing how to ensure their silence.
Daimon was easy. He already had an agreement with the Church, and unless he wanted his sister to suffer, he wouldn't speak.
Next was Wong. As a sorcerer of Kamar-Taj, he rarely appeared before the public anyway. That was not a concern.
Third was Elsa Bloodstone. After a moment's thought, the cardinal relaxed. As Ulysses Bloodstone's daughter and a professional monster hunter, her professional ethics were trustworthy. Mercenaries did not betray their employers—this was common ground.
That left only one person.
Lucas.
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