Chapter 68: Silent Abyss
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: PlumSauce
The West Bay City office district had been completely destroyed along with the collapse of the building — every instrument, collection, and document inside, obliterated. Zoltán’s remains were taken by Lucian to a private laboratory. With the assistance of other spellcasters, Lucian now understood what had happened to Zoltán.
Zoltán was long dead, yet in a sense, he was not.
Years ago, as a traitor and informant, Zoltán had been captured by the wizards. They burned away his eyes, then replaced them with new ones, and as he neared death, subjected him to “extraction” — erasing his ability to feel emotions, turning him into a flesh golem while alive.
Normally, such constructs are made from corpses. Flesh golems made from dead bodies have almost no intelligence — they obey commands, have no subjective judgment, and cannot record or apply experience.
Zoltán was different. He had been modified while alive. He retained all his former knowledge, remembered spells and combat techniques, could make basic judgments, speak with people, and understood fundamental daily life skills. At the same time, he would absolutely obey the Arcane Covenant’s commands. Within the premise of obeying orders, he could independently handle any unrelated tasks that arose in daily life.
Ancient texts call such beings “silent golems.” They are exceedingly rare, because the method to create them is too evil and too difficult to succeed. No one — neither exorcists nor the Blackmoon family — had ever truly seen a silent golem before.
Understanding these traits, the Association finally realized why Zoltán had behaved strangely in the past: most of his orders were to protect the Arcane Covenant or eliminate enemies, sometimes even including killing another traitor — Devine.
When Zoltán had been hiding in the hospital and encountered Burton and the elderly hunter, the cruel words he spoke were because he literally could not perceive emotions. The Eyes of Truth let him see that Burton was a bloodkin, so he stated it outright; he sensed Crystal’s suffering and told Burton directly. Burton and Crystal were irrelevant to him — he simply stated his judgments, completely indifferent to the consequences.
Later, the Association and some hunters cleared out the secret research facility he was in at that time. After escaping, Zoltán secretly sought opportunities to carry out his duties, attacking Association personnel in retaliation. He killed several staff members, but hesitated when confronting Coraci. Perhaps the bond of blood was too strong; even as a silent golem, he still felt some affection for Coraci.
When treating the Bewildering Monster, he similarly judged the Farr couple to be “irrelevant people.” They needed medical care, and he could provide it, so he did.
When the Menkovár family’s bloodkin invited him to Jibi Island, he went. When he met the Fallen One Sartre, who sought bloody revenge, he assisted in casting a spell.
He could utilize all his former knowledge and wisdom to perform these tasks — but he had no sense of morality or emotions.
Upon encountering Coraci again, he judged him to be extraordinary, and followed the Association members back to West Bay City. He determined it was time to execute his orders. He attacked the Association’s bus, attempting to kill the traitor Devine. He was no longer truly Zoltán, and had forgotten how much he had loved that woman. His bond with Coraci remained through a shared bloodline, but nothing affirmed his love for Devine.
Devine had been hit by a silver-core bullet and was under medical care. She had survived, but the bullet struck internal organs and her condition was grave. She frequently slipped in and out of consciousness, softly calling out for Zoltán and Coraci. She knew the young man was not her child from before, yet still instinctively called him.
More than half a month had passed since that night.
That dawn, Coraci left under John’s command and had not appeared since. Now John could no longer sense Coraci’s location; the imprint could not detect someone so far away.
When Devine was out of danger, she documented her past events in writing. Everyone read her account; they photocopied the original and sent it to the Association headquarters to file.
Even before reading it, John already knew what had happened in the past. That night, he had seen it all directly from Coraci’s memories before anyone else.
…
It is said that in the moment when dreams fade and one is about to fall into reality, a person cannot sense themselves.
In reality or in dreams, people can perceive their own distinct self, their contours, emotions. But at the boundary between dream and reality, they cannot.
In a dream, you fall from a high place, drifting along the wind through a canyon, across thunder and scorched earth, looking down on scenery you’ve never seen… Suddenly a piercing sound rings in your ears. It takes a second or two to realize it is the alarm clock. Before confirming you’ve awakened, your eyes still carry traces of the previous scene.
In that fleeting moment between the two, one cannot feel their own existence. Name, identity, past memories, and future hopes — all are blank. With awakening, consciousness gradually clarifies, and one realizes it was just a dream.
He existed in this state of “inability to recognize self” for a long time. He could feel emotions, but could not name them, nor knew how to respond. He didn’t understand language, or what he was, or how to move himself.
This existence was a vast darkness, and he endured it for an extremely long time — though he did not know the concept of “time,” and had nowhere to learn. Gradually, he developed a sense of self. He awakened, able to look down at his own limbs — pale, blue-tinged fingers; long, overly thin legs with bulging veins. A profoundly unhealthy, ugly body. He didn’t know what “hands” or “feet” meant, what “male” meant, or how to “walk.” He remembered nothing and had to learn everything piece by piece.
He possessed immense power. In an enclosure of special materials, he could kill any monster that lunged at him. The people in white coats had said the names of those monsters, but he could barely remember them.
Besides that, he frequently endured extremely painful experiments. Those people had ways to restrain him; his strength could not be used to attack the researchers. For reasons he did not understand, whenever they spoke a string of characters, he could only kneel and submit.
Much later, someone told him: That is your name.
A devil’s greatest weakness is its true name. Even a powerful devil might find ways to resist slightly — but you are not a complete devil. You are merely a fragment of one. To you, your name means absolute control.
The person who told the devil this was also one of the white-coated researchers.
Tall, black-haired, with a pair of gentle blue eyes.
This person had also said: For a long time, your soul was sealed within an imprisonment crystal, buried deep underground. We located you according to ancient texts and brought you here.
A soul alone is of little use. Only by giving you a physical body could your power be fully manifested. So we created a flesh golem in the image of that devil and placed your soul inside — only then could you reach the greatest possible resonance.
The devil did not understand what these words meant. Later, he understood little by little that humans were born of the union of male and female, and some monsters were born through infection or egg-laying — but he was not.
He was a fragment of something, completely alone. His only value was to be placed into an artificial body and live in the way he was living now.
Occasionally, when the researchers mentioned the word “devil,” he sensed it was an evil word, and that being a devil was the reason for his suffering.
He would bellow in pain, then gradually cry. He asked why he had to endure all this, having never harmed a single person there.
“Yes, you are innocent, but this is our work,” the researchers replied coldly. They did not hate him, nor did they admire him. He could only face their blank, expressionless faces — only when they observed some result did their eyes briefly shine.
His life did not change. He did not even know what “death” was, nor could he hope for it.
Because almost no one communicated with him, his mind developed very slowly.
Only one person occasionally spoke with him. She was a young lady with a sweet smile. She taught him some words to express feelings, daily life knowledge, and even one or two simple folk songs.
The devil asked her many questions: Why am I here? What is the world like beyond this place? This “experiment” is very painful — can it not happen? Why am I a devil while you are human? Why am I a devil?
The lady could not answer all of them. Some questions embarrassed her or could not be addressed.
Once she casually said the outside world was vast, that life held many possibilities… As she spoke, a faint gleam of hope appeared in her eyes, as if she too looked forward to something beyond.
That lady helped him gradually understand more. He gained a vague sense of right and wrong, and an awareness of the unknown, fostering a hope of escaping this fate.
Days later, the lady no longer appeared. The tall, black-haired man said she was pregnant. When he said this, his gaze was very gentle — completely unlike the other researchers’ eyes.
The devil did not know how to measure time, nor how long it had been. One night, the tall man appeared before him again. At this hour, researchers rarely came.
The man’s badge read “Deville Zoltán” — the devil could see the letters clearly for the first time. It was the same name as the lady who had once taught him to read.
Zoltán gazed at the devil trapped in the magic array and spoke measuredly. “Do you want to leave this place and go to the outside world? Do you want freedom?”
He did not know what “freedom” meant — but he wanted to leave.
Zoltán said, “Listen. Mira and I plan to escape and never return. Someone will meet us on the way. We cannot fight so many guards, but you can. The spellcasters know your true name, so they can bind you with magic — but they are not here now. The guards outside are not skilled in sorcery; you can defeat them easily, just as you did with those monsters.”
The devil looked at Zoltán in confusion.
Zoltán dismantled the prison that had confined him, breaking the sealing array that incorporated characters from his true name, and extended his hand toward him.
“I give you freedom. In return, you must protect us. Do you agree?”
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