Chapter 349: This Is Certain. (2)
“Not able to leave?”
“That’s right, I can’t leave… I don’t even want to leave… And this child has no intention of letting me go either… Grrr…”
Count Mowbray wore a grave expression.
He couldn’t trust everything the evil spirit said, but hearing that his son had no intention of releasing it weighed heavily on his heart.
Did his son truly refuse to return to normal because of him?
Was there really no way to expel this evil spirit from his son’s body?
‘Neither holy power nor magic could even scratch that thing. What on earth is it?’
He had summoned mages and tried every conceivable method, but none had worked.
At one point, Count Mowbray had even brought in a captured dark mage from another territory to attempt a cure. However, even the dark mage had been baffled, unable to identify what kind of demon Edwin had made a pact with or the nature of his symptoms.
Calling for a priest was out of the question. They would likely suggest burning everything rather than trying to exorcise the spirit.
Besides, priests were of no use. If this had been something they could solve, holy treatment would have worked in the early stages of the symptoms.
Even when offered a new body as a last resort, Edwin had flatly refused, flicking his tongue as he spoke.
“Just, release me. Then, I’ll behave myself. How about that? It’s so cramped here, and your son is uncomfortable too.”
“No, that is out of the question.”
“Grrr… How dare you imprison a great being like me like this…”
“You hardly seem great. You look pathetic.”
If it were truly a “great being,” it wouldn’t be stuck here.
Long ago, it would have unleashed its demonic energy, shattered the tower, and escaped.
Since neither magic nor holy power had any effect, no one could determine what it really was.
The dark mage had made a vague hypothesis when consulted:
― “Perhaps its soul is highly ranked but has lost its power in the human realm. Its high rank might explain why nothing works on it.”
Count Mowbray shook his head as he recalled the dark mage’s words.
What meaning did those guesses have now? He neither understood the cause nor knew how to expel it.
Evil spirits didn’t attach to just anyone. If it were so simple, the world would be full of people like Edwin.
Such spirits required complex and stringent conditions to latch onto a host. Unfortunately, those conditions had aligned with his kind-hearted and fragile son.
“Keep a close watch on him. Feed him on time,” Count Mowbray ordered the guard standing by the door before turning away.
“You’re leaving already? It’s been a while since you’ve seen your son’s face. Stay a bit longer, won’t you?”
Count Mowbray left without a word, his face wrought with anguish.
There was no way to cure his son. The only option was to keep this a secret and ensure he stayed alive.
When Count Mowbray returned to his seat with a gloomy expression, a knight approached and gave a report.
“A noble has come to request an audience with you, my lord.”
“Who is it? Didn’t I make it clear that I’m not meeting anyone?”
“He introduced himself as Baron Duggly from the East.”
Count Mowbray tilted his head at the unfamiliar name.
“From the East? Baron Duggly? I’ve never heard of such a person.”
“He claims to be an exorcist.”
“An exorcist…?”
Priests aside, most who called themselves exorcists were frauds. After all, the true counter to dark magic was holy power.
Occasionally, there were genuine shamans depending on the region, but exorcists were largely figures of superstition among the common folk.
“Yes. He said he came to solve your difficulties, my lord.”
“Difficulties?”
“Yes, he claims he can cure Young Master Edwin’s… mental illness.”
At that, Count Mowbray’s expression hardened. Did that mean rumors of his son’s condition had spread all the way to a noble in the East?
In this era, those suffering from mental illness were often said to be possessed by evil spirits.
Of course, a true evil spirit couldn’t withstand holy power, so nobles with access to priests knew the two conditions were entirely different.
“Hmm… He claims to treat mental illness but calls himself an exorcist? Could he actually know something?”
Count Mowbray propped his chin on his hand, deep in thought.
Many had witnessed Edwin’s early symptoms. Although the situation had been controlled, it was possible that the symptoms had become the source of rumors.
A rumor about mental illness could be ignored. But a rumor that he was possessed by an evil spirit? That was unacceptable. If such a rumor had spread, everyone privy to it would have to be silenced.
“Let him in.”
A short time later, Ghislain and Arel entered. The steward standing beside Count Mowbray spoke softly.
“Please introduce yourself formally.”
Arel, eager to make up for his previous mistake, quickly pulled out a note.
It was the note Claude had prepared for him titled “How to Introduce the Lord When Meeting Count Mowbray.”
When Claude created their disguised identities, he had only been told that Ghislain would pose as an exorcist to treat a member of the Count’s family afflicted with mental illness. So, he had written an introduction to match that premise.
Arel glanced at the note and spoke nervously.
“This… this is Baron Duggly, the master of mental illness treatment for 16 years… the genius in the art of curing madness, known as ‘Madness’ Baron Duggly.”
“……”
An awkward silence spread throughout the room. Ghislain cast a sidelong glance at Arel and whispered.
“Who gave you that script? Claude? Belinda?”
“Th-the Chief Overseer…”
Ghislain closed his eyes for a moment. As expected, that guy wouldn’t be deterred by a few beatings, unlike the others. His sheer stubbornness was impressive.
A subtle sense of rivalry welled up within Ghislain. It seemed like he’d have to try a little harder when he returned.
“Alright, I understand.”
Ghislain smacked his lips and stepped forward, introducing himself directly to Count Mowbray. Before the Count could ask any probing questions, Ghislain got straight to the point.
“I’ve heard a bit about the rumors regarding Edwin, the heir of this place. I’d like to attempt a treatment.”
Count Mowbray shot Ghislain with a cold, piercing glare.
“Rumors, you say… I don’t know where you might have heard such things, but I fail to see why an exorcist has come. Do exorcists treat mental illness now?”
“Yes, they do.”
“And how exactly do you plan to treat it?”
“It’s common for such cases to involve possession by an evil spirit.”
“What did you just say?”
As Count Mowbray’s expression twisted in anger, the knights and soldiers around him instinctively placed their hands on their weapons.
Edwin’s condition was a closely guarded secret in the territory. Under no circumstances could it be allowed to spread.
Rumors about mental illness could be overlooked. Many priests and servants had witnessed Edwin’s early symptoms, so it was inevitable that some talk would occur.
But after the symptoms grew severe, the flow of information had been meticulously controlled. Yet here was someone speaking openly of possession by an evil spirit, implying the secret had somehow leaked.
As Count Mowbray slowly raised his hand, the soldiers closed in around them.
Arel, tense with anxiety, reached for his sword. Only Ghislain remained utterly composed, his expression calm and unbothered.
Count Mowbray spoke in a low, deliberate voice.
“Where did you hear such a thing?”
“That’s not important.”
“Then what is?”
“What matters is that I can treat it.”
“You can treat it? Do you perhaps use holy power or magic?”
“No, but I know the symptoms very well.”
“Explain.”
“The eyes turn black, the behavior becomes like that of a mad beast, and miasma is emitted. Your son is clearly possessed by an evil spirit.”
At this, Count Mowbray and those around him widened their eyes in astonishment. The description was uncannily accurate.
They were even more startled by what Ghislain said next.
“I have already expelled such a spirit before.”
“You you’ve done it before? You’ve really expelled something like that?”
“Yes, which is why I recognize the symptoms.”
Count Mowbray, still suspicious, asked cautiously.
“Do you know what it is?”
Ghislain’s eyes gleamed ominously as he replied.
“It’s a being with which I have a personal grudge. That’s why I’ve tracked it all the way here. I cannot say more than that. Decide quickly. If you refuse, I’ll leave.”
Count Mowbray fell into a deep contemplation, his expression grave. There was no way to completely rule out the possibility that this man was a fraud.
But sending him away wasn’t an option either. He knew far too much about the symptoms, and his claim of pursuing the evil spirit made sense.
There was no alternative. The Count had even been debating whether to seek out a Holy Maiden in desperation.
Even if Ghislain was a fraud, he had no choice but to take the chance. It was the mindset of a father clutching at straws.
If the treatment failed, there was only one option left to ensure the rumors did not spread by silencing Ghislain permanently.
With a deadly glint in his eyes, Count Mowbray finally spoke.
“How long do you think it will take?”
“A few days. Exorcism rituals are incredibly grueling, dangerous, and exhausting.”
“What will you need?”
“Nothing beyond the tools I brought with me.”
This only deepened the Count’s suspicion. But with no way to discern the truth, he nodded reluctantly.
“If you fail, I won’t let you leave here unscathed.”
“That much, I can accept.”
“Very well. I will give you the chance.”
Count Mowbray promptly led Ghislain and Arel away.
To ensure they couldn’t escape, soldiers from the Count’s household followed closely behind them.
Watching this, Arel fidgeted nervously with his sword. His palms were so sweaty that the grip slipped in his hands.
‘Stay calm. The lord will succeed, no matter what.’
Hearing the exchange, one might have thought they were off to face a demon. If Arel wanted to be of any help in this endeavor, he would have to keep his wits about him.
When they reached the tower, an ominous aura filled the air. The higher they climbed, the more oppressive it became.
Ghislain turned to Count Mowbray with a serious expression and said,
“This treatment cannot be witnessed by just anyone. If anything goes wrong, Edwin’s life could be in grave danger.”
“What do you mean by that?” the Count asked, his voice tense.
“This is an evil spirit that neither priests nor mages have been able to expel. I need to perform my own exorcism ritual. If something goes awry, the spirit could transfer to someone else, leading to an even worse situation potentially ending with Edwin’s death.”
Ghislain’s words, which carried a hint of threat, darkened the expressions of everyone present. Undeterred, he continued.
“No one can remain in the tower. Only my disciple and I can enter to expel the spirit.”
“Th-then what about meals?” one servant asked hesitantly.
“My disciple will come down to collect them, so prepare them below,” Ghislain replied.
Count Mowbray hesitated for a moment before nodding. Though uneasy, he had no choice but to trust Ghislain for now.
Ghislain turned to the steward of the Mowbray household and said,
“Bring me my belongings.”
“Do you… really need these items?” the steward asked with clear hesitation.
“Yes, they are essential tools for my exorcism ritual.”
When Ghislain had arrived, he’d brought a large bag filled with various items. Naturally, the contents had been inspected during the security check.
The steward, fully aware of what the bag contained, appeared visibly uncomfortable as he handed it over.
“I assure you, these are tools only I understand. Now, quickly, hand them over,” Ghislain said firmly, prompting the steward to comply.
Before leaving, the steward bowed slightly and said,
“The servants and I will be waiting below. If you need anything, please summon us at any time.”
“Understood,” Ghislain replied, then reiterated, “Under no circumstances should anyone enter the tower. Do you understand? Failure will be inevitable if that happens.”
“Y-yes, understood,” the steward stammered before withdrawing along with the soldiers and staff, leaving only Ghislain and Arel in the tower.
Ghislain glanced at Arel and said, “Alright, let’s go. No matter what you see from here on, don’t be alarmed. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Arel responded, his face set with determination. Though he’d never faced such supernatural beings before, he felt it was an honor to stand alongside the lord in a battle typically reserved for heroes and saints.
Clang!
The heavy iron door creaked open as Ghislain and Arel finally entered Edwin’s chamber.
“Grrrr…” Edwin growled menacingly as they entered, a chilling sound that reverberated through the room. A thick, vile miasma emanated from his body, filling the space with dread.
Shing!
Startled, Arel instinctively drew his sword. But Ghislain raised a hand, signaling him to hold back.
“Edwin,” Ghislain called out calmly.
Edwin turned to him, his darkened eyes glinting with malice. “Grrrk, who are you?” he hissed.
“I am someone who has come to treat you.”
“A priest? I am a great being upon whom holy power has no effect.”
“No, I am not a priest.”
“Yet you think you can treat me? You believe you can expel me from here?”
“Yes, I know exactly how to do it.”
“Grrrk…!” Edwin let out a beastly chuckle, mocking the claim. He was confident that no mere ritual could expel him.
Unbothered, Ghislain set his bag down in a corner and stretched his neck from side to side. “Alright, let’s begin the ritual.”
“No matter what ritual you perform… you will not drive me out. Killing this body would be quicker,” Edwin sneered.
Even as he spoke, Edwin knew they wouldn’t dare kill him. He was the sole heir of the Mowbray family. That was precisely why they had kept him locked up instead of taking more drastic measures.
As Edwin glared at him, Ghislain knelt and began unpacking his tools from the bag.
Arel, on edge, kept his sword trained on Edwin. The oppressive miasma and the hostile aura made him fear a sudden attack, leaving him unable to relax for even a moment.
But then, as he glanced at the items Ghislain was pulling out, his mind blanked in confusion.
“Wh-what is that…?”
The bag produced an assortment of bizarre objects, each stranger than the last.
Momentarily forgetting the evil spirit in front of him, Arel couldn’t help but ask,
“M-my lord? What… what are those?”
“These? My exorcism tools.”
“Th-that’s for exorcism?” Arel asked, incredulous.
Ghislain nodded casually. “Of course. Nothing is as effective for exorcism as these.”
From the bag emerged a series of blunt objects, including hammers and clubs items that seemed better suited for bashing someone than performing a ritual.