The scene beyond the Great Library differed sowhat from what Bologue had anticipated—a scene of madness from the climactic battle. Ideally, upon opening the door, there should be a raving Devil emitting bursts of twisted laughter, yearning for the souls of mortals... or maybe two.
The unfortunate Ewen would be shivering under their oppression, just as many people Bologue had seen before, their will gradually collapsing under pressure, until the madness completely took over.
Body, mind, spirit, everything, all of it, would uncontrollably slide into a pitch-black Abyss, buried and corrupted by the viscous tar.
But when Bologue broke through the siege and reached the Great Library, the expected scene of madness did not erge. Instead, there appeared an imnsely tranquil scene.
In the deathly silence, only the chanical clatter of Ewen typing on a typewriter remained. He seed to notice the arrival of Bologue and others, and soon the tapping sounds disappeared.
Ewen’s workbench was placed atop the steps in the center of the Great Library, countless sheets of paper piled up behind it, like falling snowflakes, layer upon layer, rising high.
Pages densely filled with blasphemous words crowded the papers. Bologue had initially thought that the root of the evil would be the Devil, but now he could sense clearly that Ewen was the source of this twisted power.
"Ewen, we’re here," Bologue said, "We’re here to save you."
Ewen slowly turned his head, a withered and decaying face erged before Bologue, and he couldn’t believe it was Ewen. At this mont, he was unrecognizable, as if aged by many years, yet his eyes were still bright, emitting light from the black, hollow sockets.
"I know," Ewen nodded calmly, "I wrote about it in the book."
As he spoke, he picked up a sheet of paper that detailed the arrival of Bologue and his companions, without missing any part of the perilous journey.
Bologue didn’t know what to say for a mont, all his words caught in his throat. He looked again at the woman leaning against the side. She had a face Bologue had never seen before but possessed stunning, Fire Opal-like eyes.
Ewen knew what Bologue was thinking; all of this was in his writings, like a recurring story.
"I did it," Ewen smiled at Bologue, "I resisted the Devils’ temptations, even bound her."
"She is..."
The woman raised her head, and Bologue couldn’t help but clench the Grudge Bite, his body itching to move, every cell screaming, urging Bologue to swing the Blade.
"Asmodeus."
Ewen stated frankly, as he spoke, Daisy Castle shook violently once again. Bologue could hear the Demons howling, furious, trying to invade this place and tear everyone to pieces.
"To be exact, she’s just one of Asmodeus’s many avatars. Asmodeus is her, but she is not Asmodeus."
Ewen looked gently down at the woman, adding clarification.
"What’s going on here?"
Palr hid the Storm Feather under his coat; like Bologue, he thought a mad battle awaited them here, but in reality, it turned out like this.
No... this was worse than a battle. At least in a battle, you could clearly know who the enemy was and then entrust everything to the Blade in your hand, but now? This bizarre and absurd scene left everyone at a loss.
Imprisoning a Devil? Is that even possible?
Bologue could not believe Ewen was capable of this, but amidst the chaotic thoughts, he chose to trust Ewen’s words. After all, Bologue had realized that Devils might be invincible, but humans could find loopholes in their sches to achieve the sa conditions for victory.
Like Aimou, she was a miraculous product of Teda’s gambit with the Devils.
Can Ewen create such a miracle?
A chilly breeze stirred within the enclosed chamber, lifting one of the many sheets of paper. Then, like a swaying leaf, it gently fell into Bologue’s hand, describing everything that had just happened.
"They don’t know what I truly want, neither does Asmodeus nor Belphegor," Ewen shook his head, "In the end, Devils are really too dull. Once you understand the logic behind their actions, many things beco easily seen through."
Bologue didn’t see Belphegor and wasn’t sure if he had left.
Ewen continued explaining, "They’re very angry."
He laughed, his voice filled with pride, "Devils are always like this, acting aloof, believing themselves to be superior to all living beings... perhaps they think of themselves as gods."
Devils never really regard anyone seriously; in their eyes, everyone is just a flock of lambs covered in wool.
But now the lambs have dragged them down from their high perch, shattering their arrogant conceit."
Ewen taunted, "They are furious."
Belphegor chose silence, while Asmodeus, under the magnifying humanity, delivered a shaful and furious blow to Ewen. Ewen could feel the pain in his abdon, but he thought little of it, even enjoyed the pain, as it was like the wounds on a soldier’s body, a testant to honor.
Ewen continued, saying that his contact with the Devils may not have been the longest but was definitely the deepest, both from a spiritual and emotional standpoint, which Bologue could not match.
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