Chapter 89: Library
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: PlumSauce
Carolyn tiptoed to the doorway, peeking out with half her face visible. “Hi? I… I don’t really know how to put this, but since you’re here, come in and take a look at what’s inside. If you want to flirt, you might want to consider the timing?”
“We’re not flirting…” John moved to stand next to Coraci.
Carolyn complained as she stepped inside,“Your reaction’s like some boarding school girl. I’m not your nanny — why so nervous? The one who should be nervous is me.”
The north tower library was half-underground, circular and spacious inside. Bookshelves and rows of desks spiraled inward, sunlight filtering through high dome windows, cutting the shelves and floor into geometric patches of light and shadow.
They followed Carolyn deeper into the spiral of shelves. Alongside a few bookcases, ancient tomes and handwritten notes were piled on long tables; the chairs had cushions, laptops sat on the tables, and coffee cups, some still half-drunk, were scattered about. Clearly, these weren’t placed recently. Lucian had told Liz she’d know what to look for once she arrived. Indeed, the Blackmoon family had clearly used this space for research frequently long before today.
Liz was perched on a ladder, flipping through leather-bound books on the higher shelves. Some were spellbooks, but most were notes left by researchers centuries ago, along with detailed records of battles against captured devils.
“I’ve never come this far into the spiral,” Liz murmured to herself. “It’s not even that big, but I’ve never really been in here…never paid it much serious attention.”
Carolyn stood beneath the ladder. “Uh, because they were researchers, and you’re an exorcist.”
“Yeah, I’m busy fighting monsters. I don’t have much time to sit down and write…”
“Liz…” Carolyn looked up at her, reaching out, but even if she tried, she couldn’t touch her. Carolyn felt disbelief. The Blackmoon family had just suffered a calamity, yet Liz remained so calm — without a single tear. That made it all the more frightening. Carolyn was very worried about her, but didn’t know where to begin.
Liz flipped through old handmade parchment. “If you’re not good at comforting me, don’t. Focus on the devil. Nothing else. I’m fine, really.”
“Alright…” Carolyn looked around. “Do you hear it? That rumble, like thunder or drums — it’s getting louder.”
Indeed. Perhaps because the library was closer to the underground and eerily quiet, the low rumble from all directions seemed more distinct, filling the air.
Liz tossed a few thick books to Carolyn as she descended the ladder. She pointed to a spread-out sheepskin scroll and the adjacent handwritten notes. “They’ve already made a terrifying discovery — even if I’m still alive, the sacrificial devil might break free. For something as powerful as a devil, the last Blackmoon ‘lock’ is already too weak.”
Sacrificial rituals turned the resentment of the victim into benefits for the family. When all direct bloodlines were gone, the victim could return with even greater malice. Each bloodline acted like a lock keeping the sacrificial spirit confined; when the final lock loosened, freedom was granted.
Currently, the only Blackmoon child left was Liz — and the fate of Lucian remained unknown.
Ordinary humans sacrificed could only wait for all “locks” to fail. Stronger beings — like lord-level demons, devils — were far more powerful. As the number of locks dwindled and the layers of bindings thinned, they might begin to awaken early, seeking to break the rules.
The thick volume in Liz’s hands contained translations and derivations: formulas predicting the speed of a devil’s soul revival if the Blackmoon bloodline weakened or vanished. Only half the ancient text was open; the derivation was unfinished.
Coraci looked at a nearby book, which detailed the battle between past spellcasters and the last devil. It wasn’t a heroic epic by some bard, but a meticulous record of every magical effect, spell, and combat detail, noting maximum and minimum outcomes, successes, and failures — like modern software logs, but obviously, handwritten.
Coraci whispered, “Lizbeth, you know that using a devil’s true name in a spell makes it far more effective.”
Liz nodded. “Yes, the Blackmoons recorded the sacrificial devil’s true name. But I can’t recite it now; there’s no accompanying spell to use.”
If the devil’s true name were spoken without a spell, it wouldn’t grant control — and might even draw him closer. Simply saying the name strengthened his connection to the world.
Coraci remembered the Arcane Covenant base deep in the Hungarian forest. Only experienced wizards could control the devil using the combination of true name, spell, and engraved runes. Ordinary wizards — like Mira or the guards — couldn’t manage it. Using the devil’s true name required long-term preparation; it wasn’t something that could be done spontaneously. The wizards had meticulously prepared while studying the devil fragment, which was why they had managed to confine him for so long.
“Did the Blackmoon family record his true name in ordinary text?” Coraci asked.
Liz nodded. “Yes, it’s in the spell records. Oh, and here too.” She had already opened Charlotte’s scroll case, and now she unfolded the sheepskin scroll inside.
It was thin and fragile, requiring careful handling. On its surface were arcane characters inscribed in blue lapis lazuli ink, along with a long word composed of unknown letters. She also opened a thick, hardbound black manuscript, flipped to a page, and pushed it toward Coraci alongside the sheepskin scroll.
Coraci recognized the script on the scroll, but not the one in the hardbound black book. “The scroll is written in wizard cipher. But this — what language is this?”
“Blackmoon family language,” Liz replied. “I’d call it more of a secret code. This is the translation table.” She also brought over a small book.
When casting a spell using the devil’s true name, one had to use both devil script and arcane characters. However, if it was only being recorded, ordinary text must be used. These letters held no power, caused no harm to the reader, and wouldn’t alert the devil.
Coraci sat on the other side of the table. “If you want to continue calculating the devil’s revival time, I can translate the family language and wizard cipher into English. I’ll finish it quickly.”
Liz didn’t answer. With her head bowed, she continued the work her family hadn’t completed — translating and calculating the demon’s revival speed under different levels of confinement.
John stood behind Coraci, Carolyn behind Liz. The two of them first looked down at the spellcasters beside them, then looked up at each other blankly, unsure what to do.
A few minutes later, Carolyn grew bored and began flipping through books on the lower shelves. She didn’t understand the content — or even some of the titles — so she looked for illustrated books, calling John over and constantly asking if he’d seen the creatures depicted.
“Carolyn,” Liz said without looking up, “come sharpen my pencils.”
“Sharpen pencils?”
“For diagrams and spell calculations.”
“No mechanical pencils?”
“Would you use mechanical pencils in geometry or architectural drafting?”
“I didn’t take those classes,” Carolyn muttered, sitting down to sharpen the pencils. “At least you could buy mechanical ones. Click, and you get fresh lead — no sharpening needed…”
“I know what a mechanical pencil is. Astronauts and Swedish furniture stores don’t use them. Why should we?”
Carolyn paused mid-sharpen, “Liz…are you okay? I think your logic’s starting to slip…”
“I’m fine. And calm.”
Carolyn shrugged and continued sharpening. John wandered around the library, bored, keeping an eye on the ever-present, rumbling “heartbeat” that filled the air.
Five minutes passed. Suddenly, there was a slow knock at the library door, irregular and unhurried.
“Is it Instructor Jere and the others?” Carolyn stood up.
When they had arrived at the north tower, the rest of the Association either left with the ambulance or went to help Smith handle the werewolf corpses. No one seemed to be waiting outside for them.
Coraci pushed aside the book in his hands and lifted his head. “I’ve discovered something very important.”
“What is it?” Liz kept her head down, writing, seemingly unwilling to meet his gaze.
“First, I suggest everyone leave this place…” Coraci said. “It’s not safe for me to stay here.”
“You’re never safe anywhere,” Liz replied.
“I mean it,” Coraci said, standing and gathering the thick manuscript and books. “The devil’s name, and the contents of this scroll, I—”
“Shh!” John made a hush gesture to everyone, cutting him off.
His bloodkin’s hearing was keen enough to notice that, not only outside the door, but also whatever was moving outside the north tower wasn’t human. They were pacing outside, near the high glass windows.
John silently approached the library door, then returned to the desk, whispering, “Whatever is outside the door is not human. It has no heartbeat.”
Carolyn’s hand went to her gun, biting her lip. “Uh… Wait, you don’t have a heartbeat either. Could it be Carl outside?”
“Impossible. It’s daytime. And if it were Carl, he’d be banging and shouting at the door.”
“That’s true…”
Coraci took a few steps forward. “I know what it is…”
“You know?” John instinctively blocked his path.
“It’s the same kind of thing as me. Devil fragments infused into a human body…” Coraci stared straight ahead, as if he could see through the door.
The two humans and the bloodkin exchanged glances, gasping in shock.
“How can you be sure?” John asked.
“When they were near, I felt them … I couldn’t a few minutes ago, but now they’re too close, and I can sense it. Lucian and Lizbeth were right. It’s struggling, gradually seeping out until it completely breaks free…”
“Wait, Coraci,” John pressed on his shoulder, slowing his voice. “I’m asking — how can you be sure?”
Coraci looked into his eyes. “I translated the true name of the sacrifice from the translation table…”
Halfway through his words, a high window diagonally behind them cracked. Something outside was attacking. The library’s glass had been specially treated, so it wouldn’t break immediately. Simultaneously, the knocking at the library door turned into pounding.
Carolyn fixed her gaze on the door and drew her gun. John looked toward the window and saw a humanoid figure continuing to hammer at the glass with some sharp object.
Coraci continued, “That name and the name that binds me…are exactly the same.”
For a moment, John couldn’t process what he was saying. Liz, shocked, ran over. “What did you say? You’re not mistaken?”
She reached out to grab Coraci’s arm, but he stepped back, as if afraid he might burn her.
“I’m not mistaken. That’s exactly it. That heartbeat already made me uneasy, and now, as whatever’s outside gets closer, I feel it even stronger…”
He paused to think, then said, “They’re probably coming to attack Lizbeth… They must have crawled into the corpses to move about freely, similar to how I can survive.”
“They’re all like you?” Carolyn sounded a little hopeless at hearing that.
“No,” Coraci said. “I can sense it. Compared to me, they’re just weak fragments, only a small portion…” He muttered to himself, walking with deliberate steps toward the library door. “Because the devil itself hasn’t fully broken free yet, killing the things outside won’t take much effort. I can shred their bodies so they can’t move…”
“Coraci! Stop!” John shouted, reaching out to grab him.
Coraci froze immediately. Before he could say anything, John wrapped an arm around him and guided him back to the bookshelves. “I can’t let you lose control again. Since you say those things aren’t strong, we’ll handle them.”
“But—”
John held his shoulders and turned him toward the ladder. “Now, you climb the ladder, sit at the top, hold onto the bookshelves, and close your eyes. Don’t come down unless I tell you. Don’t open your eyes unless I allow it. Other than sitting there, do nothing. Go.”
Coraci’s face showed disbelief, but he obeyed.
John looked up at him and added, “If the ladder falls, I’ll catch you. Don’t worry.”
Another loud crash rang out as the wooden door split open.
Carolyn glanced up at the tall ladder. Coraci really had his eyes closed, gripping the shelves tightly, his brow furrowed.
“Finally seeing the power of a bloodkin’s bond… This is…hard to even describe.” She jumped onto the table, gun raised, facing the enemies about to break in.
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