Chapter 40: Everyone Has Something on Their Conscience

  Justinian stared with wide-open eyes at the piles of books in front of the entrance to Ignatius's residence.

  'What is this ridiculous labyrinth?'

  The boy found it all the more strange because, of all things, his superior had never struck him as an intellectual.

  'Could he be this bothered by his nickname, "the Emptyhead"?'

  He had heard that it was associated with ostracism and had other negative effects, but the sight before him looked as if someone had moved an entire library here.

  Ultimately, however, this was not the purpose of his visit, so he soon composed himself and began to push through the narrow passages of the strange construction.

  It wasn't long before he stopped, blocked by an invisible barrier created by the master of the mountain.

  "W-w-what do you w-want?"

  An impatient question soon reached him from inside. The devil's voice sounded as if he hadn't slept for many nights.

  "Won't you let me in first?"

  "There's no need!"

  Ignatius was terribly nervous, and his hiss was full of fury.

  Justinian sighed heavily. He didn't know what the Emptyhead's problem was, but it was really looking increasingly strange.

  "I'm looking for a way to locate a certain she-devil. Can you help me with that?"

  Only silence answered him. It was only after a few moments that the master of the mountain graced him with some information.

  "I-if you have any of her personal items, you can ask a seer. G-Greedius once had an artifact that was used for s-similar purposes, but he supposedly l-lost it somewhere."

  The young man's eyes lit up at these words.

  "Where can I find such a seer?"

  As before, Ignatius did not answer immediately. It seemed that even answering simple questions was difficult for him, as if he were analyzing whether he should mention it at all.

  "The s-sixtieth dimension of hell. C-currently the passages are blocked after the problems with the inquisition, but you'll be able to travel once you achieve Foundation Stabilization..."

  Justinian turned pale at these words. Once again, the consequences of his earlier actions were catching up with him.

  He soon bowed toward the interior of the residence and began to squeeze his way back out. When he was near the exit of the labyrinth of book stacks, the master of the mountain spoke again.

  "Th-there's something you sh-should know."

  "Hmm?"

  The boy was quite surprised; the Emptyhead had never addressed him in such a way.

  "I-I think I-I know w-which cult attacked y-your kingdom."

  When Justinian returned to his village, his face was twisted in a grimace of deep thought and great emotion.

  'The truth about who is behind the attack...'

  He had not expected his superior to actually succeed in learning this information. Now, however, Ignatius claimed to have solved the mystery.

  Even though the devil had been acting strangely for a long time, he didn't sound like he was lying.

  'Besides, he seemed genuinely frightened when he mentioned it.'

  The young man did not know what secret was connected to this, but Ignatius promised to share all his knowledge with him right after the ritual ending the Holy Pilgrimage.

  'Could this matter be what's driven him to such paranoia?'

  The matter was truly strange, but he decided to put all deliberations aside, at least for the moment.

  'Nothing will bring back Sister Teresa and Zonik... But perhaps there's still a chance to find Aldona.'

  Deep in thought, he didn't sense the presence of a guest.

  "Greetings, Justinian the Just,"

  The voice of the ever-calm Franciscus rang out. Of course, as the devil uttered his name and title, his nose immediately began to bleed.

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  The boy was surprised that he had already returned, but he greeted him warmly. In difficult times, the presence of friends could soothe the pain of one's wounds.

  "Weren't you supposed to meet with your uncle?"

  His serious interlocutor looked him in the eyes without emotion.

  "Yes, he wanted to check my progress and say goodbye before leaving for his vacation."

  "And how did it go?"

  Justinian had the impression that whenever the topic of the great de Deviliare was raised, his young colleague became strangely somber.

  It was no different this time, but it was only perceptible for a fraction of a moment, after which the child's face returned to its usual expression.

  "He recommended further work. What I presented to him did not impress him."

  "That sounds... harsh."

  Franciscus shrugged.

  "He is a great authority, and his words in the field of poetry are worth more than the words of an oracle."

  The little devil clearly did not want to delve further into the subject and soon changed it.

  "You look troubled, even more so than usual. Is it related to the strange behavior of the master of this mountain?"

  Justinian sighed.

  "Ignatius has gone mad. Or he was always mad and has now stopped hiding it."

  His interlocutor looked at him attentively.

  "Actual madness is highly unlikely. Ignatius the Emptyhead, despite his reputation, comes from an extremely powerful and ancient bloodline that protects against such defects."

  The man raised his eyebrows at these words. He knew his superior came from a good family, but such a status was truly impressive.

  Soon, they both sat on one of the neglected benches nearby, and Justinian told him about his adventures on Greedius's Mountain, as well as Aldona's disappearance.

  Listening to the story, Franciscus frowned at one point, as if something didn't align with his knowledge. So he opened his notebook, in which he described the passing days with surprising detail.

  "Your story reminded me of something Boruta said recently."

  "Hmm?"

  "He stated, and I quote: 'This is some farce. Of the four representative adepts, two are of human origin. How am I to maintain tradition in these conditions?'"

  Justinian's heart began to beat faster.

  "Two? I am one, but who is the second?"

  "The adept from Greedius's Mountain, Belisara."

  At night...

  In a rented room belonging to a tavern at a crossroads, far from the five mountains, two very significant devils met.

  One of them was Greedius, the ruler of the Mountain of Envy and Conflagration, who was gleefully gnawing on a roasted leg of some infernal bird.

  Opposite him, with the expression of someone who had accomplished a magnificent, almost impossible deed, sat the Orange Prince, Shedim Medaiash.

  "This is the best deal you've ever made. Nobody makes better deals than me. I guarantee it," the prince declared, adjusting his absurdly expensive ?upan.

  "Everyone says so. They ask me, Shedim, how do you do it? And I tell them, it's simple. You have to have the best mind. Exactly like mine."

  Greedius swallowed a bite of meat and wiped his greasy mouth with the back of his hand.

  "Spare me. Do you have what I wanted?"

  The prince smiled broadly.

  "I have just the thing. I have the best disk. An amazing disk. Look at it."

  He placed a small, metal disk on the table that seemed to absorb the light.

  A strange, pulsating energy emanated from it.

  Greedius looked at it with desire, but his face quickly twisted into a grimace.

  "The price hasn't changed?"

  "A deal is sacred to me. It's about making a beautiful business and a profit for us both."

  The master of the mountain only sighed at these pronouncements. The agreed-upon price was astronomically high.

  He snapped his fingers, and several items appeared on the table before him.

  "The Soul Compass, able to point you to that human of yours."

  Shockingly, the first of them was the very object Ignatius had mentioned to Justinian earlier!

  "The notebook contains, sworn under a diabolical oath, all my notes on the method of obtaining a devilish virtue."

  The prince squinted as he looked at all the items. If he was pleased, he didn't show it.

  "And the formations at Ignatius's place?"

  "Impassable. This is my report, described under a different oath."

  Shedim nodded. He had received exactly what they had agreed upon.

  Greedius took the disk, but his face remained thoughtful.

  "It surprises me that you attach such importance to this Justinian. He has an interesting foundation, but it's not on the level of devilish virtues. Besides, the ritual will probably destroy him."

  The Orange Prince waved his hand dismissively.

  "It's part of a great plan. A magnificent plan that you wouldn't understand. It's too complicated. But believe me, it's fantastic."

  "Our business is concluded."

  Saying this, the master of the mountain dissolved into thin air, leaving the smiling devil to himself.

  Time did not stand still on the Mountain of Research and Development either.

  On one of the highest training grounds, in the light of magical lanterns, a lone figure moved.

  Felix Faustus's movements had none of his former, nonchalant grace.

  They were brutal, full of fury and desperation.

  Each blow against the training rock shattered it into dust, and a muffled roar of pain escaped the young devil's throat.

  In his eyes burned a madness born of helpless grief.

  "You will destroy yourself this way."

  Eusebius's voice was quiet, but it cut through the din of the training. The master of the mountain stood at the edge of the ground, dressed in a simple robe, his face etched with concern.

  "It doesn't matter," Felix replied without breaking his murderous pace.

  Eusebius knew that any hope of stopping Felix would likely fail.

  "Greedius won't let you kill someone he shared his gift with. He is called the Immortal for a reason. You will die if you fight him."

  Felix listened in silence, his face remaining impassive. Finally, he graced his master with an answer.

  "In hundreds of years, you must have learned his secrets."

  The adept's interlocutor hesitated.

  "Greedius jealously guards his secrets. The only thing I have managed to confirm is that his immortality is somehow linked to one of his hideous tattoos."

  "There must be more."

  Eusebius looked at him with some irritation, but he restrained himself from an outburst.

  "He was able to regenerate from a blow that should have killed him during a duel with the previous ruler of his mountain. I'm guessing the only way might be an attack that goes beyond the standard power of Foundation Stabilization."

  The master of the mountain fell silent, then placed a hand on Felix's shoulder.

  "Hold off on your revenge. You are truly in no state to achieve it now."

  Felix did not reply. Eusebius understood that he had said all he could. He turned and dissolved into the air, leaving his student alone with his thoughts.

  The adept stood motionless for a long moment, the wind whipping his robe and hair. Then his gaze drifted into the distance, toward the silhouette of the Mountain of Envy and Conflagration looming on the horizon. His expression was no longer mad. It was cold as ice, focused, and full of murderous determination.