"—It's a curse."
Aiwass’s expression turned solemn as he immediately identified the nature of the curse.
"A corrupted blood curse."
This was a pain-type curse created using venomous scorpions, snakes, and live toads, with menstrual blood as the medium.
It inflicted pain equivalent to three times that of menstrual cramps, lasting from thirty minutes to six hours depending on the victim's curse resistance.
Sherlock’s face turned grim.
A deep-blue brilliance flashed in his pupils, exuding a cold, rational, and mysterious aura.
He extended the pinky of his left hand, tracing a rune in the air resembling a cane.
"Water conquers blood, as the pure shall always triumph over the filthy."
He recited in a low voice while grabbing the bottle of purified water from the table.
Sherlock flipped it over.
But instead of falling, the water filled the rune floating in the air.
Once the rune was full, it suddenly contracted into a sphere and shot forward, splashing directly onto Lulu’s face.
Water scattered, but what dripped down was foul, rotting blood.
The painful groans coming from Lulu’s throat instantly ceased.
Still, she kept vomiting, blood pouring out uncontrollably.
Aiwass reached out and felt the back of her neck and chest.
They were chillingly cold.
He frowned.
"You didn’t fully dispel it. Only half of it’s gone."
Sherlock glanced over and assessed her symptoms.
"This curse is a bit complicated. Her esophagus and stomach are being corroded—the medium isn’t just menstrual blood. It’s a composite curse. You take over... best let a specialist handle this."
"Yeah, I’ve got it."
"Do you still have enough mana?"
"Just enough to heal her."
Aiwass answered calmly.
He gently helped Lulu into a semi-seated position, facing downward to avoid choking on her own blood.
Then, Aiwass extended his left hand.
His fingers sank into the thick platinum-blonde hair of his “wife,” the heel of his palm resting on the back of her cold neck, while his middle finger pressed against the back of her head.
His expression was solemn and respectful.
In his sapphire eyes, a brilliant glow ignited like a golden sunset.
Whenever he resonated with his Path, this light would appear: a deep crimson tinged with gold, symbolizing the fire-dominant affinity of the Path of Devotion.
—This was the most vivid healing effect of Aiwass’s “Illumination Art” to date.
Black smoke hissed from the back of Lulu’s head, dulling her radiant hair.
Her body convulsed, trembling at an incredibly high frequency.
Still, she bit her lip and refused to cry out, worried she might wake little Aiwass.
Only muffled whimpers escaped her throat.
"We’ve got company. Not exactly friendly."
Sherlock said quietly.
"I’ll handle it. You keep healing her."
He grabbed a bottle of sulfuric acid and hurled it at the wall.
But as the bottle shattered, he extended his right hand, forming a fist, and punched the air toward the point of impact.
The transparent, oily sulfuric acid did not spray outward—instead, it absorbed a dark green gas and began to swell… like a heart or a fist.
Thicker and more viscous, it expanded.
In the next moment, Sherlock’s right hand opened into a claw, grasping at a nearby corner.
A shadow there was becoming unnaturally clear and red.
Long-distance teleportation required a brief materialization period.
Since Lulu had been cursed, Sherlock had been carefully monitoring the surroundings.
"Fox" had picked a good spot—inside this sealed factory, lighting was uniform.
So any sudden change in brightness would signal the Iron Hook Demon’s arrival!
The suspended green liquid formed a claw and struck toward the shadowy spot!
A screech pierced the air—like a crying baby, or a cat in heat. A sharp, shrill sound that seemed to bore into the ears.
Yet little Aiwass did not wake.
He only twitched as if in a nightmare.
"I hate rude children."
Sherlock muttered coldly.
"Especially the noisy ones."
His spell had been effective.
The demon—a red-skinned imp, knee-high, with two legs, four arms, and a grotesque baby-like head—was caught the moment it appeared.
It couldn’t escape.
The sulfuric acid claw pinned it down, sizzling and burning.
—The situation looked good, but Sherlock felt no joy.
He could feel his water and earth-elemental mana draining rapidly to maintain the spell.
He had used a bit of water mana earlier to dispel his own curse.
Now, only two points of water mana remained.
Even though he could forcibly substitute earth mana to power the Water Demon’s Claw, half of the spell still required water mana.
Two water + two earth mana would maintain the spell for only forty seconds.
Enough to kill a squad of humans.
The claw could easily shatter trees or rip through leather armor.
But it couldn’t kill the Iron Hook Demon.
At best, it might injure or scare it off.
If "Fox" could finish dispelling Lulu’s curse in time, that would be a victory.
Because without a cursed target nearby, the Iron Hook Demon couldn’t teleport.
That would lessen its threat… at least significantly.
…Wait?
Sherlock’s face changed.
A curse?
He wasn’t an expert, but he knew one thing—
Cursing the same person twice gets harder each time.
The victim gains curse resistance, and the same medium can’t be reused.
In four hours, the enemy might only be able to curse each of them once.
Which meant—
Perhaps Coco didn’t set up a warding ritual at all… she just dispelled her own curse, like Sherlock had!
Among the Alexanders, the first one cursed wasn’t “Fox.”
—It was little Aiwass!
If both he and Lulu had been cursed, that meant Fox was next!
Realization dawned.
Damn.
That’s the downside of the Path of Devotion.
He could easily dispel others’ curses—but not his own.
"Illumination" burned himself to light others.
Wait, what about “Offering Flame”?
…But there were no candles here!
"Fox!"
Amidst the demon’s screams, Sherlock shouted,
"Can you use ‘Offering Flame’ on burning wood or chemical agents?"
"…You give me too much credit!"
Aiwass replied, just as loudly.
"And besides, Offering Flame doesn’t heal as well as Illumination. Even if I could use it, I’m still only First Order—I can’t dispel a Second Order curse!"
…Fair enough.
Sherlock wasn’t familiar with the Path of Devotion, but now remembered—Aiwass Moriarty, another priest, still needed a wheelchair.
That must’ve been due to high-tier curse damage.
Because "Offering Flame" was restoration, not healing or regeneration.
High-level damage couldn’t be undone by it.
Real regeneration belonged to the Path of Adaptation or Equilibrium.
Still, from Fox’s tone, Sherlock could tell—
He had realized it too.
"What do you plan to do?"
Sherlock asked.
"What else?"
Aiwass replied cheerfully.
"Didn’t we just win?"
As he spoke, the curse on Lulu was fully dispelled.
Sherlock instantly understood what Aiwass was planning.
The Iron Hook Demon’s scream stopped abruptly.
It wasn’t dead—it had been recalled.
Aiwass let out a breath.
"Don’t look over here, Mr. Sherlock."
He warned as he removed Lulu’s coat, laid her on her side, and slipped his left hand under her skirt to press against her bare side.
He used his remaining light mana to cast Illumination.
"You should talk."
Sherlock retorted.
"Don’t grope her—Miss Lulu is still a young girl."
He mentally added:
A princess, no less.
"Of course I know that."
Aiwass shot back.
"What do you take me for? Some pervert who preys on kids?"
He instinctively thought of Lulu as a child.
Out of respect, he touched her from the side, not the front.
Scorching light energy flowed with her heartbeat, spreading through her body.
The corroded tissues in her throat and stomach regenerated rapidly.
It only took a small amount of mana.
Once he withdrew his hand, Lulu sat up and quickly adjusted her clothes.
"…Thank you, Mr. Fox."
She blushed but bowed gratefully.
"You didn’t have to save me…"
"You mean, kill you instead?"
Sherlock immediately caught her meaning.
"I refuse."
Aiwass said lazily.
"If it had been Laurel, maybe. But not me."
With that, he turned toward the exit.
"—Mr. Fox?"
Lulu called out, worried she’d said something wrong again.
Aiwass paused and turned back with a calm smile.
"The demon can’t find you anymore. But it can still find me.
One more hour, and the ritual ends.
So long as I stay away from little Aiwass, we’ve already won.
If someone must sacrifice themselves for victory… it’ll be me.
You two stay here. Don’t move."
Then he looked at Sherlock and casually asked,
"Oh right, do you have a dagger? I’d feel safer with something on me."
"…Will a box cutter do?"
Sherlock handed him a small utility knife.
It had no combat value.
But enough to end one’s own life.
Sherlock thought Fox would use it to kill himself quickly when the demon came, avoiding being vivisected alive.
"Good enough."
Aiwass took it.
"Better than nothing."
"Want me to do it? I can make it painless."
"I’d rather die outside. Lulu might get scared."
Aiwass answered lightly.
Of course, he didn’t plan to die.
He just needed to draw blood—for the Flesh Shepherding Rite.
Otherwise, he’d have to bite himself.
—Yes, the Flesh Shepherding Rite.
A skill of the Path of Devotion.
It was likely because he had seen the Shepherd’s Codex and possessed this rite, that the ritual considered them capable of defeating the Iron Hook Demon.
It had factored in not only Bone Carver and Sherlock but also Aiwass’s unique abilities and demonology knowledge.
If he succeeded in casting the rite, he could control the lesser demon.
Even Shadow Demons couldn’t resist Aiwass’s blood.
Iron Hook Demons were far weaker.
And with the intelligence of a toddler, this one had clearly not been trained.
After getting caught by Sherlock, all it did was scream.
It didn’t even teleport to escape—something trained demons could do.
In the ideal scenario, the demon should’ve appeared before little Aiwass and been instantly subdued by him.
Then Sherlock would gather everyone to form a nine-member team, each with a unique role.
Simple mode, basically.
But just like Bone Carver refused to cooperate…
The ritual didn’t register Aiwass’s desire to hide his use of the rite—especially from Sherlock.
Thus, the difficulty increased dramatically.
After all, Fox was a façade.
A deliberately exposed, “clean” identity.
Aiwass’s real secret—his Path of Transcendence—remained hidden.
He was right.
For Sherlock and Lulu, the ritual had ended.
They had won.
Little Aiwass survived.
They had played their roles to the end.
But for Aiwass, who sought the truth and higher scores… the real hunt was just beginning.
He stood before the sunlit door, concealing his bloodlust.
Smiling, he waved to Sherlock and Lulu one last time, as if saying goodbye before a noble sacrifice.
"Take care of ‘our child’, Lulu.
Sing him another lullaby. He seems to be having a restless dream.
And you, Mr. Sherlock… if I get the chance, I’ll come find you.
If I get the chance."
They would definitely remember him.
—Because now, the hunt begins.
Aiwass thought to himself.